No Place Like Home
by tired mommy
Summary: All I did was wake up and smell the diaper, and somehow my New York apartment was gone. I found myself in an unfamiliar house. A note on my desk read "Dear Fanfiction writer, Welcome to England."
1. Chapter 1

June 21, 2017/ July 1, 1991

Feige's point of view

I woke up from tiny hands clenching my hair. I reached up and removed the hands, then ducked under the blanket to avoid a repeat performance. Of course, as soon as I was out of sight, Yisrael took advantage. "The mice play while the cat's away," I thought to myself. I peeked through my blanket as Yisrael tried opening my bedroom door. It was locked as usual. I started locking Yisrael into my bedroom at night after he flooded my apartment last February. It's not very pleasant to wake up at 2:30 am to an apartment that's ankle deep in water.

When Yisrael saw that the door wouldn't cooperate with him, he tried the window instead. I took the blanket off my head and watched him go on the windowsill, step on the air conditioner, and try to walk up the window. He fell doing that two nights ago. While he was fine, the blinds weren't, and I really hoped he wasn't about to knock loose another set of blinds.

After a while, he lowered himself to the floor and took on his usual crouch that he assumes when moving his bowels. I must have dozed off, because the next thing I knew, there was a really unpleasant smell in my face. I reached over and checked the diaper. Full and smelly, just how I don't like it.

I stepped out of my bedroom, expecting to take the two steps to my kids' room to retrieve a diaper and wipes. One step out of my room was enough to send me back in. I'm supposed to be facing a wall when I open my bedroom door. If I turn left, I have the bathroom and kids' room while if I turn right, I get to the linen closet and have to turn left again to reach the kitchen and living room.

Instead of the wall, I saw a flight of stairs leading down. I ducked back into my room and tried to figure out where I am. My bedroom looked exactly the same. The dresser drawers were still missing most of the knobs; the windowsill had the usual clutter, and Dovid's side of the room was covered in dirty laundry. (I've been trying to teach him to put his clothes in the hamper for the last 14 years.) I did notice an extra closet door. When I opened it, I saw it was actually a bathroom.

I still didn't know where I was. We don't have a bathroom in our bedroom, but otherwise, the room looked exactly the same. If we were sleeping at someone's house, there would be suitcases all over and I wouldn't have to leave the room to get a diaper. But there were no diapers and wipes in the room, and besides, who has the same dresser as us?

I opened the door again. There was a door on each side of mine. The room to my right was completely empty except for a fireplace. Who has fireplaces in the 21st century? I wondered. Of course, having lived in New York apartments my whole life, I wouldn't know what the norm in old houses is. The room on my left looked like a playroom. It seemed as though somebody took the time to sort through Yisrael's toys and arrange them neatly on shelves. All of his books that are normally spread out on the living room floor were now in preschool size book racks, and they took up a whole wall. I wondered if Yisrael would still play drop the books in this room. At home, the books never stay in the bookcase for a whole day. There were shelves with all of our board games, and our computer desk was up against one wall. "I must be dreaming," I told myself. "Why do I even have to change dirty diapers in my dreams?"

The next room was a nice sized bathroom and the last room was the room I was looking for. The layout of my kids' bedroom did not change in the slightest. Shlomo had rearranged the furniture last week after I paid a handyman to fix the ceiling fan. (Apparently it's not meant to hold a 9-year-old's weight.) The goal of the new set up was to make it harder for Yisrael to climb on the ceiling fan, which is why he climbed up the window instead. The blinds were still on the floor where they landed when Yisrael fell.

I got a diaper and wipes and changed Yisrael. Since he was sleeping, he didn't fight me this time. After washing my hands, I went back to bed, hoping to get a decent sleep for the rest of the night.

I woke up from Dovid asking me something. Since I was sleeping, I wasn't sure what he asked.

"What?" I grumbled.

"Where did you put the bathroom?" he asked.

"I didn't touch the bathroom," I told him. "It should be where it always is, next to our bedroom."

"Well, it's not," he complained. "And I really need it."

I opened my eyes and looked around. The extra closet door was still there.

"Try that door," I told him.

"Where are we?" Dovid asked when he came out of the bathroom.

"The bedroom," I told him.

"I know that much," Dovid said. "But where?"

"Dreamland," I told him.

"You should see this house," Dovid said.

"No I shouldn't," I corrected. "I should sleep while Yisrael is sleeping."

"But we're not home," Dovid insisted.

"Look around," I said, "the furniture is all the same. This isn't anyone else's house. Now let me sleep."

Before I could fall back asleep, I heard footsteps in the hall. Dovid opened the door and peeked out.

"It's Shlomo," he told me.

"Uh-huh," I said, still trying to sleep.

Shlomo walked into the bedroom.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"You're in my room," I told him.

"But where?" he asked again.

"Dreamland," I answered.

"Mommy isn't ready to get up yet," Dovid told him. "Let's explore by ourselves."


	2. Chapter 2

June 21, 2018/July 1 1991

Shlomo's point of view

I don't know how my mother could sleep when there's a whole house to explore. Tatti and I looked around eagerly. I had already used the bathroom near my bedroom. The playroom looked neat. I saw both of my monopoly games, uno cards, and several decks of cards. There were some other games too, but those aren't important. The computer was up against a wall, and all of Yisrael's books took up another wall. The kid size picnic table that we normally have near the living room was in this room instead. I saw all of Yisrael's toys and my nerf basketball and hoop, but I didn't see my real basketball, football, baseball, soccer ball, or mitts. I wondered what happened to them. The last room we checked was completely empty.

"We should make this Yisrael's room," I suggested, thinking about finally having my own room.

"We would have to lock him in," Tatti said. "Mommy won't agree."

I looked at the fireplace. There was a box of matches and a container labeled floo powder.

"Either way, this room is too dangerous," I pointed out.

"We could move the matches and whatever that powder is," Tatti offered.

"Yisrael could still bang his head on the fireplace," I told him.

"Let's see what's downstairs," Tatti suggested.

There was a hallway downstairs that led to the front door. The bathroom was near the door. The room on the other side of the stairs is a kitchen. It had the same table, chairs, counters, and stove as our kitchen at home, but it was square instead of rectangle.

The next room was the dining room. It had our table and chairs and the bookcase, but the bookcase was a lot neater and more organized. It took me a few minutes to realize that there were only sefarim (Hebrew books) in this bookcase.

The room between the dining room and the door turned out to be the living room. It had our couch, recliner, and fixed version of the recliner in my bedroom. It also had another bookcase, this time with all our English books.

"It looks like I have lots of reading to do," I said, noticing titles I never saw before.

"We didn't come all the way to wherever we are just to read," Tatti told me.

"How's the weather today?" I asked him. "I don't know how long we're staying here, but if it's hot or rainy, I could stay in with books."

Tatti looked at his phone.

"It has two different things for weather," Tatti said. "One is Surrey and one is Radlett."

"Where is that?" I asked. "Is that in New York, New Jersey, Maryland or Florida?"

Those are the only states I went to as I have relatives in all those states.

"According to my phone, they're both in England," Tatti said. "I went to England when I was a kid to visit my great grandmother. She used to live in London. Savta used to visit her every summer, and one summer, we all went."

"Were you in Surrey or Radlett?" I asked.

"I was in London," Tatti answered. "There's a lot to see in London."

"Is there anything to see here?" I asked.

"I don't know where we are," Tatti explained. "Without knowing where we are, there's no way of knowing what to do."

"Let me see," I said, putting out my hand for the phone.

"It's July 1, 1991 according to the phone," I pointed out.

"My phone must be malfunctioning," Tatti reasoned.

"I'll check the date on the computer," I said, going back upstairs.

The computer agreed with the phone about the date, however, the 2018 calendar was still on the desk. There was also a note on the desk that I missed before. I read it aloud.

"Dear Fanfiction writer,

Welcome to England! You and your family have been chosen to help Harry Potter defeat Voldermort without as many deaths. As you already put each of your kids in a story, (Ari Goldstein is based on Shlomo in The True Story of Anthony Goldstein, while Jacob Frank is based on Yisrael in The Autistic Wizard,) your kids will take on those characters. If you look in the desk drawer, you will see that everyone's birth certificate has been modified. Your new last name is Goldstein. Shlomo's legal name is Anthony Shlomo Goldstein while Yisrael is Jacob Yisrael Goldstein. It is 1, July 1991 and you are currently in England. You were put into the house next door to the Dursleys at 3 Privet Drive in Surrey. This way, Shlomo could meet Harry before school starts, and Dovid could work for Vernon at Grunnings. He will be starting his new job next Monday.

However, I am aware that you need a religious community in order to keep your religious laws. I am also aware that you need a school that caters towards children with autism in order for Yisrael to attend school. While in 2018, there are schools for autism in Surrey, as we are still in 1991, you are currently in Radlett. In order to open your door, you need to say either Surrey or Radlett. The door will only open in the place that you say.

Normally when people time travel, they cannot take technology with them. I made an exception for you in order to make the transition easier for Yisrael. Anybody from this time period will see what they think things should be. Any book in your bookcase that is from after 1991 has another book attached from before 1991. This way, if anyone comes to your house, they will only see the current books, not the future. Most British are completely ignorant of American sports so it is safe for Yisrael to wear his Mets Jersey and for Shlomo to wear his Matt Harvey jersey and his Eli Manning jersey. In the event that you do meet someone who knows American sports, the jerseys will look the way they did in 1991 with players from 1991.

Wishing you the best of luck,

fanfiction. net

It was time to wake up my mother.


	3. Chapter 3

July 1, 1991

Dovid's point of view

I followed Shlomo back to my room where Feige and Yisrael were still in bed.

"Mommy, I know where we are," Shlomo said eagerly.

"We're here," Feige responded.

"I know where here is," Shlomo persisted.

"Here is in bed," Feige told him. "Yisrael was up a lot last night. Now that he's sleeping, I want to sleep too."

"But we're in England," Shlomo tried again.

"Do people in England not sleep?" Feige asked.

"Show her the letter," I told Shlomo.

Shlomo handed Feige the letter. She read it and said, "This letter has more questions than answers."

I knew what she meant, but Shlomo didn't.

"What questions?" Shlomo asked.

"You are 11-years-old in 1991 and Yisrael is 9. I was ten years old in 1991. Why did we move to England? What reason can we tell people that makes sense? What happens when Voldermort is defeated? What happened to the world we came from? How will Bobbi react when she keeps calling us and gets no answer? Fanfiction is not a person. How could it write to us?"

"Why don't you get up?" I interrupted Feige. Sometimes when she goes on like that, she just confuses me.

Feige got up and checked the weather on the computer.

"The high today is 72 degrees in Surrey," Feige reported. "We're not hitting 80 until July 5th. I guess the British don't know what summer is. It's in the 50s now."

She checked the weather in Radlett next.

"In Radlett, the high is 68," she commented. "I guess we're not getting a real summer."

"I don't remember the weather when I was in England," I commented, "But I remember that Shabbos was over in the middle of the night."

"Shkia is 9:23," Feige said. "I hope they make early Shabbos here."

"When I was in Stamford Hill, they didn't," I remembered, "But my relatives are mostly chasidish, so they're in a different time zone."

"I wonder what time shacharis is here," Feige said while checking online.

"The part of Surrey we're in is called Staines or Little Whinging," Feige reported. "They only have a minyan on Shabbos. Radletts's shul needs a password to see the schedule. Maybe you should go down there and get the schedule."

"We don't even know what to tell people," I insisted. "When they ask why we moved, what am I supposed to answer?"

"The letter said that all our post 1991 books have a counterpart from pre 1991?" Feige asked.

"We're not reading books now," I huffed. This is a big problem in my house. Feige, Shlomo, and Yisrael all lose themselves in books. At the Shabbos table, Feige and Shlomo often discuss books that they read. I have no patience for fiction and prefer reading the news.

"I want to see something," Feige said, going down to the living room.

She scanned the bookshelves before triumphantly holding up a book.

"That's Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince," Shlomo commented.

"Look what's attached to it," Feige prodded him.

"Goldstein family History," Shlomo read.

Wonderful. I need to read a book to find out my fake history. Luckily, Feige decided to read it to herself quickly and summarize for all of us.

"Shaul Hamelech decided to kill all the witches," Feige told us. "Some of them managed to hide from him and decided to stick together. They kidnapped a few men to marry and have children with. They kept together secretly until the Romans conquered Israel and they ended up in what was then called Roman Britian. They eventually developed their own secret community in what is now called Golders Green. In 990, they were discovered by two witches and two wizards who were seeking out hidden (and not so hidden) magical communities in order to start a school. Gryffindor and Slytherin were both disappointed that the secret magical Jewish community was more interested in obtaining knowledge about magic without doing any; Hufflepuff was ready to give anyone a spot in the school but warned them that they must stay loyal to the magical community as a whole, and Rowena Ravenclaw was very impressed with all the knowledge available in this secret community. She agreed with these Jews that knowledge is golden. Some of Hogwarts first Ravenclaw students were religious Jews. While Slytherin was not too happy about having to let them go home every shabbos, Hufflepuff offered to help them find a house near the school to make it easier to send kosher food."

"Does that mean I'll be a Ravenclaw?" Shlomo interrupted.

"Probably," Feige said. "That's what I put you and Yisrael in for both stories that I wrote about you, but you have the final say."

"What does any of this have to do with us?" I asked impatiently.

"When surnames became more common in Britian, the Jewish magical community adopted the name Goldstein. They wanted all the Jewish magicals to be easily identifiable by name for shidduch purposes. Of course, between squibs and immigrants from Eastern Europe, the name became a common last name for non magical Jews in Britain too. At some point in the 11th century, others discovered the land now known as Golders Green, and the Jewish magical community separated.

"In 1920, a squib daughter was born to Ethel and David Goldstein. Nine years later, they had a magical daughter named Regina," Feige continued.

"My grandmother's name was Regina, but she was called Nunka," I reminded Feige.

"Well, her name was changed in this timeline," Feige told me. "This book calls her Rebecca, probably because her Hebrew name was Rivka."

She continued the story.

"When Rebecca did not get into Hogwarts, she received a muggle education from her disappointed parents before making her way to America. Her mother made her promise to bring all her offspring to visit every summer for the rest of Ethel's life."

"Rebecca was a faithful daughter who did as she was asked. She married Sam and they had one daughter named Corrine. Corrine married Abraham and had six children. None of the children are magical, but Corrine and Rebecca brought them to visit their aging grandmother until Ethel's death."

"Meanwhile, Regina was in Hogwarts the same time as Voldermort. Myrtle Warren was her dorm mate in Ravenclaw, and after questioning Myrtle's ghost, she came to the conclusion that one of the Slytherins opened the chamber of secrets. She knew from Myrtle that it had to be a boy, and over time, began to suspect the prefect Tom Riddle. Regina never told anyone her suspicions; however, she was very good at charms and managed lots of tracking charms on Tom during the years between his graduation and his becoming Lord Voldermort. She also stalked him and invented magical eavesdropping devices that she kept secret. She wrote down all her notes including the information she uncovered about horcruxes, and Snape asking Voldermort to spare Lily. She even recorded the Potters' deaths, although she did nothing to help.

"Regina has one daughter named Giselle who was furious that Lily Evans was head girl instead of her. She eventually married a classmate who was jealous of James Potter. The two of them formed a union of hate, envy, and anger. They discovered that Remus Lupin was a werewolf and that James, Sirius, and Peter were illegal animagi, but decided to hold on to that information for future blackmail opportunities that never came. After comparing their notes with Regina's they realized that there is a pretty good chance that Sirius Black was innocent, but did nothing about it.

"After Ethel's death, Regina started visiting her sister every summer. She often brought Giselle and her husband Jonathan. None of Rebecca's grandchildren were magical, but they all married and had kids of their own.

"Corrine's oldest son, David, married Feige and had two kids. When Anthony, the older son was five, he was attacked by playground bullies and used accidental magic to glue them to the bench in the school yard. He told his parents, and David casually mentioned it to his mother. At that time, Giselle and Jonathan became very interested in Anthony. They started keeping up communication with him and his parents on an ongoing basis, looking for more signs of accidental magic. When Anthony was 7, he caused spit to change direction in midair in order to avoid getting spit on. That was when Giselle and Jonathan told David and Feige that their son is magical and suggested that they move to England. David and Feige both refused. They both had jobs in New York, Feige's entire family lived nearby, and Jacob, Anthony's brother, was in a top ABA school. Every summer they tried to convince them, and every summer, Feige and David stubbornly refused. At one point, Feige vented her frustration that Jacob is constantly removing the refrigerator lock, oven lock, and baby gate in the doorway of the kitchen. The magical couple immediately turned their attention to the younger boy. They noticed pictures of Jacob beaming down at them from on top of the fridge or dangling from the top of the bookcase and realized that he has some very strong magic.

"Giselle and Jonathan became more persistent. They tried telling David and Feige that if they don't get Jacob the best magical education there is available, he will continue to be out of control. Feige insisted that there must be magical schools in the country. While Giselle agreed that there are, she felt that Hogwarts is the best school ever. David and Feige continued to refuse. Finally, on 30 June, 1991, Giselle came to visit for a last time. She brought an international portkey with her, and the next thing the American Goldsteins knew, they were in England. Jonathan was waiting for them, having duplicated all their furniture, and warned them that if they attempt to reach America in any way, they will be turned into pigs. He told them that he already made arrangements for Jacob to attend Radlett Lodge School in September, and Anthony will attend Hogwarts. David will be starting his new job in a week at Grunnings. You could tell muggles that you moved so Jacob could attend school.

"Look at this!" Feige said, holding up a page towards the end of the book. "The following pages can only be read by the American Goldsteins."

"Can we read it if we're not really Goldsteins?" Shlomo asked.

"I'm about to find out," Feige said. "According to this, we help Harry Potter in every way possible, using the knowledge we have from the books that we pass off as from being from Regina's, Giselle's and Jonathan's notes. As soon as Voldermort is defeated completely, we will wake up in New York, and the date will be June 21, 2018."

"So we're just here for a vacation," I said, "I can live with that."

"I hope the rest of us could," Feige said pessimistically. "Now that you know your story, you can go to shul. You moved so Yisrael can go to school."

"Okay," I said to Shlomo. "Let's put the address in waze and see if we get lost."


	4. Chapter 4

July 1, 1991

Yisrael's point of view

I woke up and reached for Mommy's hair. She wasn't there. I looked around the bedroom. Mommy and Tatti were both gone. I used to always be the first one up at home. I had the whole house to explore, especially the kitchen. One night, I got thirsty, so I turned on the water so I could get a drink. Once the water was on full blast, I took a cup, and held it in the blast. Somehow, I dropped the cup over the hole that the water is supposed to go down in the sink, so the water didn't go down. It was fascinating to watch the water in the sink go up higher. I splashed at it until it started going over the top of the sink and on the floor. Soon there was water all over the kitchen. Then it started to go out of the kitchen and down the hall. It seeped under the bookcase and a bottle of grape juice that was all the way on top fell down and shattered. Mommy ran out and turned off the water. When she saw it wasn't going down, she took the cup off the drain. She cleaned up the glass while sending me back to bed. At some point, the water went into my room and ruined Shlomo's shoes.

After that, Mommy started locking me in her bedroom when I wake up at night. Sometimes I stay up to drive Mommy crazy, but there are lots of times that I fall back asleep when it's almost morning. When that happens, I'm the last one up instead of the first.

Today is the first day of summer vacation. I know that because Mommy told Tatti I could stay up until 8:30 instead of going to bed at 7:15 since there's no more school. The only problem was that while I was tap dancing on the dining room table, I had an accident, and Mommy kept me in the bath from 8 until 8:30 to keep me out of trouble.

I screamed to let Mommy know that I'm up. Kids are supposed to be loud so their parents always know where they are. Mommy gets worried when she doesn't hear me. She thinks I get lost.

Mommy came to the room.

"So, you finally decided to wake up?" Mommy teased.

I got out of bed and left the bedroom. There were so many doors; I didn't know where to go! I opened all the doors. There was even a flight of stairs for me to run up and down! I didn't know where we were, but I was going to have fun here.

"Savti's house," I guessed.

"Nope," Mommy told me. "We're in England."

I didn't know what England is. I know what Florida is since that's where Savti's house is. There's a swimming pool outside of Savti's house. I wondered what there was here.

Mommy made me wear pants since its cold in England. After I was dressed, I had waffles for breakfast. When I finished my waffles, Mommy put videos on so that I won't bother her when she davens. One of the Miami Boys Choir songs stopped while Mommy was davening shemona esrei, so I jumped on her back and tried climbing up to her head. Mommy didn't cooperate, so the next song didn't start.

When Mommy finished davening, I took her hand and led her to the door. I wanted to see what was on the other side.

"Let's see you open the door, wiseguy," Mommy told me. Normally, I'm not allowed to open doors.

I tried the door, but it wouldn't open. Mommy must have put on a new lock. I don't know why mommies like locks so much. It makes it hard for me to do anything.

"Radlett," Mommy said, as she opened the door. I didn't know what that meant.

As we stepped outside, I saw Tatti and Shlomo coming home. I saw our car. I love cars. I tried to go in, but it was locked.

"We'll go in the car some other time," Tatti told me.

There was also something else outside the house. I remember seeing something like that at one of my uncle's houses, but I couldn't remember what it's called. Sometimes I forget what things are called. I know that my uncle has it outside his house and my cousins keep their bikes in there. I ran over to check. My bike was there!

"That's where all my balls are!" Shlomo said. "I wonder why they're in the garage."

"Because we don't play ball in the house," Mommy reminded him.

Yes, we do! I don't know where Mommy has been all these years, but we always play ball in the house. I'm not really a ball player, but I kick a soccer ball whenever I see one, and Shlomo always plays ball in the house. Mommy must mean that we don't play ball in this place, whatever it is.

I sat down on my bike. Mommy put on my helmet. It's a silly rule, but I have to wear a helmet when I ride a bike or roller-skate. I started riding down the block with Mommy running next to me. I noticed some people peeking through their windows, trying to see where the noise is coming from. I'm used to that. Mommy always says that the word quiet is not part of my vocabulary. I'm not sure what that means, but I like to make noise.

At one house, a woman came out and said, "Why don't you take that to the park instead of making all this noise on the pavement?"

"Oh, is there a park around here?" Mommy asked. "We just moved in yesterday, so I'm still learning my way around."

"Where are you from?" the woman asked.

"New York," Mommy told her.

"What brings you to England?" the lady asked.

"My husband has lots of cousins in London," Mommy told her. I didn't know that, but as Mommy says, you learn something new every day.

"Some of his cousins feel that Radlett Lodge School would be a perfect school for my son," Mommy told the woman. "While I'm very happy with his school in New York, they were bothering us enough over the years that we agreed to give it a try for one year."

"I hope the school isn't attracting more of that crowd," the rude lady said while looking at me in a not very nice way.

I shrieked to let her know that I understood her.

"I doubt the school is well known," Mommy reassured her. "Nobody I spoke to in New York ever heard of it, but one of my husband's cousins is very involved in education and knows all the schools. She's the one who pressured us to give it a try. Where did you say the park is?" Mommy asked, changing the subject.

"It's two blocks that way," the lady said pointing.

"Thanks," Mommy said politely. "It was nice meeting you."

I spent the rest of the morning in the park, making all the noise that I wanted.


	5. Chapter 5

July 1, 1991

Shlomo's point of view

I read some of my new books until my mother came back from the park with Yisrael. I ate four waffles with cream cheese and ketchup for lunch. After that, I decided to ride my bike.

"Where are you going?" Mommy asked.

"I'll just ride around the block," I told her.

"Where?" she asked again.

"Radlett," I told her. Maybe I would meet boys around my age.

I rode down my block, checking yards along the way. Towards the end of the block, I saw a boy around my age shooting baskets. I stopped to watch. After a few minutes, he noticed me.

"What are you looking at?" he asked.

"I was just watching," I told him. "I moved in yesterday, and asked my parents about putting a basketball hoop in the driveway, but they didn't yet."

"You from the American family?" he asked.

"That's right," I told him.

"Wanna play?" he offered.

We played one on one until he beat me 11-9.

"Good game," he said. "I'm Ashi by the way. What's your name?"

"Shlomo," I told him. "I didn't expect you to make that last shot."

"What could I say?" I'm the best athlete," he bragged.

"If that would be the case, you would have beaten me by a lot more," I told him.

"I guess we're evenly matched," he said.

I agreed. After saying good-bye, I got on my bike and continued to the corner. I was disappointed after turning the corner. Many of the houses did not have kids at all. The ones that did have kids in the yard, mostly had girls and were playing games I never saw before. On the third side of the block, I finally saw another boy. He was playing soccer with his sister.

"Why are you staring?" the boy asked.

"Just watching," I told him. "I'm used to my New York apartment where everyone plays in the park. I have all my balls in my garage, but no place to play and nobody to play with."

"Do you play football?" he asked.

"Yes, I was running back on a local team," I told him. "Do you?"

"I'm playing football right now," he said, "and I never heard of a running back."

"You're playing soccer," I corrected. "A running back is in football."

"They're the same thing," he said.

"No they're not," I told him. "In soccer, you kick the ball into the goal. In football, you either pass or run to the end zone."

"You don't know what you're talking about," he said.

"I guess in Britain, nobody plays American football," I realized.

"We have our own sports," he said.

I was disappointed as I rode away. Football is an important part of the American lifestyle. Hopefully, some kids play baseball at least.

A few houses down, I saw a boy with a bow and arrows having target practice. I kept going. I saw many families, some not Jewish, some with girls, and some playing games I didn't recognize. I turned another two corners before making it back home.

After a long drink, I went out again, this time in Surrey.

Immediately, a big blond boy grabbed the front of my bike and said, "Nice bike."

Another boy grabbed my arms and held them behind my back. That wasn't a problem. I took martial arts classes for self defense back in New York. I elbowed the guy and he let go, however, he quickly grabbed me again. No problem, I thought for myself, time for the tough stuff. I slammed my head back and heard the guy fall to the floor.

"You'll pay for that!" the blond boy said, raising a fist.

Yeah, right, I thought. I'm on a bike and he's on foot. I pedaled hard and ran over his foot while making my great escape. I zoomed down the block and turned the corner. I had to swerve many times to avoid hitting the many cats on this street. I turned three more times before I was back where I started. The boy I hit with my head was sitting on the floor. The blond boy was whining to a blond woman who was yelling at a police officer. I rode over nervously.

"Are you okay?" I asked the boy on the floor.

"Are you the one who ran him over with your bike?" the cop asked.

"I didn't ride him over," I said. "He grabbed my arms from behind while the other boy grabbed the front of my bike. I slammed my head into the kid behind me and ran over the other boy's foot."

"That's not what the boys say," the officer said. "They claim that you sped out of nowhere and ran them over."

"That's not what happened," I said. "They grabbed me, one behind and one in front."

"Where do you live?" the cop asked.

I pointed to my house.

"Can you get your parents?" he asked.

I ran inside, hoping my parents could straighten everything out.


	6. Chapter 6

July 1991

Feige's point of view

When Shlomo ran in screaming that the police are outside and want to talk to us, I imagined the worst. Instead, I saw a mousy boy sitting on the sidewalk. A big blond boy who had to be the pig with the wig was glaring at Shlomo and the blond woman with them fit Harry's description of Mrs. Dursley.

Once I heard Dudley's and Pier's version of the story, I pointed out how unlikely that situation is.

"You mean to tell me that Shlomo sped down the driveway, unlatched the gate, got through, closed the gate, and crashed into someone hard enough that he still can't get up?" I asked. "He's not a racer. Even racers start off slow."

The cop agreed with me, but said we have no proof that the boys grabbed Shlomo either.

"That is something we may actually be able to prove," I said. "I really don't see why it matters though. Do the British police really investigate every time boys fight?"

"Mrs. Dursley phoned about a big bully who is knocking kids down with his bike," the officer sighed. "I need to investigate because she called, not because I think she has a case. How could you prove Shlomo's story?"

"I don't know if you noticed, but we all have light skin," I pointed out. "One of the curses of being so light is that everything shows. Where did the boys touch Shlomo? There's probably still a mark."

Shlomo rolled up his sleeves, revealing red fingerprints on his upper arms.

"He was grabbed from behind," the cop confirmed. "Are you planning on trying to press charges?"

"Of course not," I said, "Boys are boys."

I thought about poor Harry locked in his cupboard, but couldn't think of anything to do about it. If I would tell the cop, he would want to know how I know. Besides, Harry needs the blood protection. On the other hand, we need the basilisk venom to destroy horcruxes. Once Shlomo and Harry are safely in Hogwarts, Shlomo could ask Harry to explore Myrtle's bathroom with him. However, I needed proof that Harry is a parselmouth and decided to seize the opportunity.

"You know how boys are," I said. "One day they're beating each other up and the next day they're best friends. Then, even when they're best friends, they still punch each other and wrestle."

Dudley took the bait.

"I don't punch my friends," he said. "We all punch Harry."

"Who's Harry?" I asked innocently.

"My cousin," Dudley said. "We like to play Harry Hunting."

"After you find Harry, do one of you hide?" I asked, playing dumb.

"We don't hunt to find him!" Dudley burst out. "We catch him and beat him up."

"I'm sure he loves that," I said sarcastically. "It's so kind of you to give him a break for today and pick on someone else instead."

"We would get Harry," Dudley confided, "But he's locked in his cupboard."

"What?" the cop exclaimed. "Am I hearing you correctly?"

Petunia hushed Dudley. The officer looked at me for an explanation.

"I'm as ignorant as you are," I lied. "None of my cupboards lock from the inside. If they would, I would be too worried that my little guy would lock himself in and I would put something over the locks."

"The lock is on the outside," Dudley offered. "It's his punishment for setting a snake on me at the zoo on my birthday."

"Why wasn't the snake locked up?" I asked. "In New York, all zoo animals are in cages."

"Harry talked to it," Piers said from his spot on the sidewalk. "He hissed and the snake hissed back."

"Interesting," I said, glad that I now had a source for my knowledge that Harry is a parselmouth.

"You're cousin is locked in the cupboard as a punishment?" the police officer asked.

"It's not locked," Petunia said quickly. "Boys make up stories sometimes."

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed an old lady hobbling towards us on crutches. I excused myself and walked towards her.

"Hi, I'm Feige Goldstein," I introduced myself.

"Arabella Figg," she said, confirming my suspicion. "What's going on?"

"Dudley just told the police officer that his cousin Harry is locked in a cupboard as a punishment."

"How do you know them?" she asked suspiciously.

"I moved in yesterday," I told her. "Dudley and Piers tried to jump my son but weren't successful. Mrs. Dursley called the cops on my son for not letting Dudley beat him up."

"Welcome to the neighborhood," she said. "I better go now."

I went back inside and watched the police officer enter the Dursley house.

It wasn't long before I saw Professor Dumbledore appear on the doorstep and ring the bell. I had a feeling that all the police officers on the scene would be losing their memory of Harry's cupboard. I only hoped that the Dursleys would do a better job caring for Harry once Dumbledore was through with them.

When I filled Dovid in on what was happening next door, he had an interesting suggestion.

"Do you have any of Shlomo's cookies left from Shabbos?" he asked.

"You finished them Shabbos afternoon," I reminded him. "But that's a good idea. We're just nice neighbors bringing over cookies to apologize for this afternoon's misunderstanding."

I quickly preheated the oven. I grabbed two large bowls and handed one to Shlomo. Less than an hour later, the four of us were walking next door holding a plate bearing crinkle cookies and sprinkle cookies.

I nervously rang the bell. I heard Petunia say, "We can't deal with anyone now."

Dumbledore overrode her and offered to get the door. It was a bit unnerving to be at the point of his wand.

"We're neighbors," I told him. "We brought over homemade cookies to apologize for this afternoon's misunderstanding. Are you Mr. Dursley?"

"No, I'm just visiting," Dumbledore said. "I don't think now is a good time for a visit, but I'll tell the Dursleys you came and give them the cookies. What are your names?"

"I'm Feige Goldstein," I told him. "This is my husband Dovid and my sons Shlomo and Yisrael."

"Goldstein," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. "I know a few Goldsteins."

"It's a very common Jewish name," I told him.

"Are you related to Giselle and Jonathan?" he asked.

"Unfortunately," I answered.

"Maybe you're just what we need," he said. "Come in."

The four of us followed Dumbledore to the living room. The three Dursleys looked scared while Harry looked surprised. Dumbledore conjured some more chairs for us.

"Giselle Goldstein's mother is Regina," Dumbledore told us. "Do you know her?"

"She's my grandmother's sister," Dovid answered.

"Do you mind describing the relationship between the two sisters?" Dumbledore asked.

"They seemed to get along okay," Dovid replied. "My grandmother died ten years ago, but she used to visit London every year to see her family. She took us all with her. After my great grandmother died, Regina came to visit us every year."

"Do you know why Rebecca moved to America?" Dumbledore asked.

"She always said it was because there was no life for her in England," Dovid answered.

"Did she say why?" Dumbledore asked.

"Something about not getting into a school," I told him. "Her whole family has been going there since the school opened in 996, so her not getting in was a major disappointment to the family."

"Do you know why she didn't get in?" Dumbledore asked.

"She didn't have the talents they were looking for," I answered.

"Do you know the name of the school?" Dumbledore wanted to know.

"I know that it's in Scotland," I told him.

"What if I were to tell you that Petunia is angry at her sister since her sister got into that school and she didn't?" Dumbledore challenged.

"Unless I'm positive it's the same school, I'm not saying anything," I said. "I don't want to break their laws."

Dumbledore smiled.

"The school Rebecca and Petunia both didn't get into is Hogwarts," Dumbledore told us.

"Are you also a squib?" I asked Petunia.

"They call me a muggle, but I don't like either of those words," Petunia said. "Are you one of them?"

"Definitely not," I told her. "I'm a muggle and my husband is a third generation squib."

"What's a squib?" Petunia asked.

"Someone born to a magical family but has no magic," I told her. "That's why my husband's grandmother was sent to America. Her family didn't want her since she wasn't magical, but they made her promise to bring all her offspring to England every year until her mother died so that her mother could see if maybe the magic skipped a generation or two."

"That's horrible," Vernon said. "What's wrong with these people? Just because you're not a freak, you need to leave the country? You're useless unless you have a freaky child?"

"It's worse if you do have a magical child," I told them.

A look of horror passed on Petunia's face.

"You mean your boy did magic on Dudley?" she asked.

"Nope," I told her. "We made sure that he took self defense classes so he could defend himself the normal way. He's been in a normal school his whole life, and if I would have my way, he would stay there for the rest of his schooling."

"Why don't you have your way?" Vernon asked. "You can't let those freaks control you."

"As I have no magic myself, I have no power to stop them," I explained. "Once my husband's cousins realized that my kids are magical, they tried pressuring us to move to England. We kept telling them no, but they wouldn't listen. They came to visit us last night and magically transported us against our will here, and told us that if we try to escape, we will be turned into pigs."

"They're world is crazy," Vernon said. "How can they get away with that?"

"They have the power and we don't," I said. "There's not much I could do."

"I would shoot them if they would try me," Vernon boasted.

"The point is that we're here against our will because of some controlling people who have a weapon that we can't use," I said. "We are powerless to stop them. Our apartment in Manhattan is worth tons of money. Who knows what they're doing with it?"

"I'll make sure they don't touch it," Dumbledore said. "Unfortunately, some types of oaths and vows have magical powers so I can't do much about you being here.

"Can I ask you a strange question?" Dumbledore continued.

"You just did," I told him.

"That is true," he answered. "But I'm asking another one. Did you punish your kids for your predicament?"

"Of course not!" I answered angrily. "They're being punished as much as we are! Shlomo had to leave all his friends without saying good-bye. He was on sport teams back in New York. He was considered a star student, and now he has to give it all up to come live in a backwards world. Yisrael was in a top rated ABA school. He was getting the type of instruction he needs in order to make any progress. I'm sure the school here is good, but Yisrael is considered low functioning and needs maximum interventions. I don't know how well this school could provide it."

"So you don't lock them in a cupboard for accidental magic?" Dumbledore asked again.

"That would only increase their accidental magic," I told him. "Kids can't control their magic before they start their magical education at age eleven. The magic flares up by itself whenever they're angry or feel threatened. That's why I made sure Shlomo took self defense classes. This way, he won't feel threatened, and his magic won't act up."

"I hope you learned something from this," Dumbledore told the Dursleys.

"Nobody explained it to me," Petunia whined.

"I learned something," Vernon said. "I discovered that you freaks are even worse than I thought."

"Well, if you ever want moral support," I told him, "We're right next door and ten times as miserable."

As we left their house, I wondered how much their treatment of Harry would change and if we would be involved in Harry's life.


	7. Chapter 7

July 1991

Dovid's point of view

I wasn't too happy about spilling all that information to my future boss, but there's nothing I can do about it anymore. Our first week in England went by fast, and Monday morning, I nervously drove to Grunnings to find out how horrible my new boss is.

"You're only managing ten clients for the first month," my supervisor told me. "At the end of the month, we will go over how many accounts went up and how many went down. If we decide that you were successful your first month, you will get a raise and more cases."

That sounded fair. I tried to remember everything I learned about marketing in college as I needed to increase business.

When it was close to my lunch break, I heard lots of whispering around me. Apparently, Dursley is a scary guy who doesn't usually visit us lowly workers, preferring to stick to the higher-ups. When everyone saw him on our floor, they got nervous and speculated over who is going to get fired. As he walked over to my desk, it seemed as though the whole place was staring at me.

"How's England treating you so far?" Mr. Dursley asked.

"It's different," I told him, "But we're adjusting."

"Have your relatives been bothering you?" he asked.

"Not yet," I answered. "My wife won't let us you the smaller bedroom though because she's scared that they'll" I stopped myself short when I realized that everyone was trying to listen in.

"Come to my office during your lunch break," Dursley said. "We'll discuss it then."

During my break, I told Mr. Dursley that wizards can travel through fireplaces. While all the other fireplaces in my house are electric, the one in the smallest upstairs room isn't. I told him that Feige said they probably did it on purpose so they can spy on us and insists on keeping the door closed at all times. That's not really true, but Feige said that would be a good excuse to tell the Dursleys if they ever notice that we have an empty room, and it is connected to the floo network.

Somehow, I survived the first two weeks on my job. The work was boring, and usually when Mr. Dursley spoke to someone, he was yelling.

On July 23rd, my family was eating breakfast when an owl flew in through an open window. I was all for shooing it out, but Feige insisted it was Shlomo's Hogwarts letter. She even prepared food for the owl to eat while Shlomo read his letter. While Shlomo was still reading it, Harry came to our door.

"I got my Hogwarts letter," he said eagerly. "What do they mean by they await my owl?"

"Shlomo's going to send his reply back when he's done reading his letter," Feige told him. "You could send your response with his."

To my surprise, Feige wrote a letter back too. When I asked what she was writing, she said that she has to arrange for Shlomo to come home for Shabbos and figure out what to do about sending him kosher food. In the letter, she suggested that either she uses the floo to deliver his food every meal or a house elf can come pick it up. She also wrote about Harry. She was concerned that we interfered too much since Harry actually received his letter instead of Hagrid delivering it. She wrote that she could take Harry, Shlomo and Yisrael to get supplies at Diagon Alley, but there were several issues that needed to be addressed first:

Harry does not have his Gringotts key. If someone could bring it over, then he could get money from his vault for anything he needs.

Feige has never been in Diagon Alley before. She could benefit from someone to show her where to get everything, but it doesn't need to be a professor, just someone familiar with the alley.

I have to work, so Feige would be by herself with three kids. One of them is the famous Harry Potter who is unaware that he is famous, one is our own kid who is also starting Hogwarts this year and may need his mother's attention at times, and one is a severely autistic child who runs off if nobody is holding on to him. It would really be helpful if someone strong enough to hold Yisrael comes with them so the person could hold Yisrael outside of a store if he gets too overwhelmed inside.

I figured out that Feige is obviously asking for Hagrid based on concerns numbers two and three.

The next day, two strangers came to our house while we were still eating breakfast.

"I'm Professor McGonagall," said the stern looking woman dressed in green, "and this is Hagrid," she said pointing to the giant man with her. "Hagrid will go next door and bring Harry over while I arrange Shlomo's meals with you. After that, Hagrid will accompany you to Diagon Alley."

"Be careful," Feige warned Hagrid. "The Dursleys are petrified of magic. Please don't do any magic there even if they say horrible things."

"I'm not supposed to do magic anyway," Hagrid said.

He went next door while McGonagall sat down at our table. Feige offered her food which she turned down. She looked at Shlomo's cream cheese and ketchup mess and wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"What is that?" she asked.

"Shlomo sometimes forgets to add real food to his cream cheese and ketchup," I commented.

"There's a waffle under here!" Shlomo protested. "You see?"

He shifted over some of the disgusting mess to reveal a tiny piece of waffle.

"Don't worry, I'm not sending cream cheese and ketchup to Hogwarts," Feige said.

"What?!" Shlomo exclaimed horrified. "But what will I eat?" Shlomo wanted to know.

"If I could find out what the meals are ahead of time, I could prepare suitable things for Shlomo," Feige offered. "The only problem would be getting it to Hogwarts."

"Tipsy!" McGonagall called. A strange looking creature appeared.

"This is Tipsy," McGonagall told us. "She will deliver the meals. She'll tell you by each meal what the next meal should be so you will know what to prepare."

"The first meal is being the welcome feast," Tipsy told us. "We have lots of food. First we have roast beef, Yorkshire pudding, mashed potatoes, steak and kidney pie, and lamb chops."

"I don't think Shlomo likes any of those foods," I commented.

"I could just send him a burger and knish, and yes I will send ketchup with those," Feige said.

"The desserts are treacle tarts, spotted dick, and chocolate gateau," Tipsy told us.

"I could make a chocolate cake," Feige said.

"I can make it too," Shlomo said. "Then you just have to deliver it."

"What are you making?" Harry asked as he and Hagrid walked back to the kitchen. He stopped when he saw the elf. "What's that?"

"I is being Tipsy," Tipsy told him. "I is being a house elf."

"What are house elves?" Harry wanted to know.

"Magical servants," McGonagall told him. "Tipsy and I have to get back to Hogwarts. Are you okay Hagrid?"

"Sure," Hagrid said. "I'm sure the boys and I will get along just fine."


	8. Chapter 8

July 24, 1991

Yisrael's point of view

Mommy was talking to the big man as Tatti left for work. They were talking about how to go somewhere. I love going places. Mommy suggested floo. I flew to Florida on an airplane. The big man suggested the train. I love trains. Mommy said maybe a cab. That's a kind of car. I love going in cars. Finally, they agreed to go by train.

I tried running ahead on the way to the train station, but Mommy held my hand and wouldn't let go. Whenever I did manage to break free, the big man grabbed me instead. On the train, I looked out the window. I climbed on Mommy so I can see better. When we got off the train, I tried running ahead again, but Mommy and Hagrid (that's what Mommy called the big man) grabbed me.

We were outside a small store when Mommy asked Hagrid if he could be discreet about Harry's identity. I wondered what that meant. When Tom offered Hagrid a drink, Hagrid said, "Sorry, I'm on Hogwarts business."

"Bless my soul, whispered the bartender. "Harry Potter."

"Shh," Mommy and Hagrid said the same time.

"We're trying to sneak in unnoticed," Hagrid explained.

Some people approached us, but we didn't stop or give them time to say anything. Hagrid tapped a wall with his umbrella. I love drumming on things so I drummed on the wall too. This was the first time a wall opened when I drummed on it. I'm going to have to drum on walls more often.

"I only want to shake his hand!" an old lady called after us. I don't know why Mommy could be rude, but whenever someone wants to shake my hand, I'm expected to cooperate.

There were lots of things to see once we went through the opening. I shrieked in excitement. I heard some birds shriek back at me, so I shrieked back at them. I saw lots of things that would be fun to touch, but Mommy and Hagrid were holding my hands so I couldn't touch anything. We went up some steps and there was a funny creature. I tried to grab him. Hagrid picked me up. I tried pulling the hair that Hagrid has all over his head and face, but he stopped me.

"Pick on someone your own size," Mommy advised me.

Sure, I tried, but Hagrid stopped me.

"Don't worry, ma'am," Hagrid said. "This little tyke can't hurt me. He's so sweet."

I could hurt him, but I am sweet.

When we got to the counter, Hagrid took some food out of his pocket. I tried to grab some, but Mommy pushed my hand away. Mommy gave in some money and got some back. The coins looked yummy, but Mommy wouldn't let me eat any. We sat and waited while Hagrid and Harry went for a ride. I don't know why I couldn't go with them.

While we were waiting, I realized that there was something Mommy should be telling those funny creatures that Hagrid called goblins. I often could sense things, and I knew Mommy was thinking about telling them something but decided not to. I was also pretty sure that things would be better if Mommy would tell them. I tried pulling Mommy's hand, but she didn't get up.

"We have to wait for Hagrid and Harry," Mommy told me.

"Let's go," I told Mommy.

"We can't go yet," Mommy said again. "We need to wait."

"Let's just see where he wants to go," Shlomo suggested.

"We can't leave Gringotts," Mommy told him.

"Maybe Yisrael wants to show us something inside Gringotts," Shlomo said.

I led Mommy back to the goblins. She started pulling me away as if she thought I would try to touch one again. I don't know why Mommy doesn't trust me ever. I reached up and touched Mommy's mouth so that she would know that she should say something.

"Is there something you're trying to say?" Mommy asked me.

I touched her mouth again.

"You were reading my mind again, weren't you?" Mommy often jokes that I read her mind whenever I know that she was thinking about something. I can't even read letters; how can I read a mind. Do minds even have words?

"We don't need to tell the goblins about the break-in plans Aunt Regina overheard," Mommy told me. "First of all, Hagrid is emptying that vault now, and also, the goblins are perfectly capable of preventing robberies without advance notice."

"Am I correct in assuming that your aunt overheard a plan for a burglary attempt?" the goblin nearest to us asked.

"She did," Mommy confirmed. "The two men she overheard were talking about robbing vault 713 on July 31. She tipped off the owner of the vault and he asked Dumbledore to send someone to empty it. I believe Hagrid is doing it now."

"We will make sure to tighten security on 31 July," the goblin said. "Thank you for the warning. You are correct though. Nobody has ever successfully robbed any of our vaults and I doubt the mysterious men would be successful even if we weren't warned."

Satisfied, I sat back down to wait for Hagrid and Harry.

Hagrid said that he needs a drink when he came back from his ride. He offered to take me with him.

"We keep kosher," Mommy told Hagrid. "We can't eat anything here."

"There were some Jews in Hogwarts when I was young," Hagrid said. "One of them, Regina Goldstein, used to eat lots of fruit."

"She's my husband's aunt," Mommy told Hagrid.

"Small world," Hagrid said. "She always asked lots of questions."

We went into lots of stores. Whenever I got to wild, Hagrid held me outside while Mommy went in with Shlomo and Harry. When Harry and Hagrid went into one store to buy a trunk, Mommy stayed out with me and Shlomo. She said that we have lots of suitcases at home. I wondered why we need lots of suitcases. Maybe we're going to Florida again.

One of the stores had lots of books, but Mommy and Hagrid didn't let me throw any of them on the floor. The last store we went into was the best. There was a tape measure that moved by itself. I tried to grab it but was unsuccessful.

"No, Mr. Jacob Goldstein," the man who worked in the store said. "You're too young for a wand. Come back in two years and you can get yours."

The man kept giving Harry and Shlomo different sticks. I wanted some too, but he wasn't letting me have any. When I tried putting one in my mouth, I found myself back outside with Hagrid.

Hagrid bought Harry a bird for an early birthday present. I asked for a birthday party. Shlomo offered to bake Harry a cake and some cookies for his birthday, but it's not for another week.

When we finished with all the stores, Hagrid said good-bye and disappeared. We took a taxi back home since Shlomo and Harry had lots of things. Taxis in England aren't yellow. They also have backwards seats in the back. Mommy told the driver that she and Shlomo both get carsick and can't sit in the backwards seats. The driver said to put me and Harry in the back, but Mommy said that it's not fair to Harry. She also wanted to make sure I could be strapped in when sitting in the back. In the end, I had the back to myself while Mommy, Shlomo, and Harry sat facing forward.

It was really cool being able to see from the trunk. In England, the luggage goes in the front with the driver so that kids could sit in the trunk. In the middle, I felt like I had to throw up and started making noises. Mommy told the driver, and he pulled over quickly. After I threw up, (on the sidewalk, not in the car,) Harry offered to switch seats with me. Mommy kept apologizing for making him sit backwards. She said that I didn't get carsick since I outgrew my rear facing car-seat when I was a year old, but before that, I used to always throw up on the back seat of the car. Maybe New York taxis are better.

We stopped between the houses and emptied everything on the sidewalk. Harry's things were all in his trunk so it was easier to bring inside. Shlomo's things were in lots of bags, but we got everything home. Mrs. Dursley thanked us for taking Harry with us and said she was happy she didn't have to go. I guess she doesn't like having fun.


	9. Chapter 9

Summer 1991

Feige's point of view

I wondered what would happen when Quirrell tries to rob Gringotts. I also wondered if the school will be able to get a competent teacher in one month.

Shlomo and Harry were busy making plans for Harry's birthday. Harry didn't seem to have any preferences for cakes, cookies, or any other snacks.

"I never really had many snacks," he admitted.

Shlomo decided to make a vanilla cake with chocolate icing and his own original recipe for crinkle cookies. Thanks to Yisrael, we usually have chips in the house.

We offered to invite the Dursleys to the party, but Harry refused. He agreed to invite Hagrid, but six people aren't much of a party.

"Don't you want to invite your cousin?" I asked, knowing the answer already.

"No way," Harry responded.

"What time should we call it for?" I asked.

"You don't really have to bother," Harry said. "I never had a birthday party before."

"Ever since Yisrael heard Hagrid tell you that it's an early birthday present, he's been begging for a birthday party," I said. "We can't disappoint him."

"Why does he care about other people's birthdays?" Harry wanted to know.

"He likes cake," I explained. "He will never pass up an opportunity to eat cake."

"So when is the best time for him to eat cake?" Harry asked. "That's when we'll have the party."

"Yisrael thinks the whole day is perfect for cake," I told him. "I happen to think that the morning is better so he has a whole day to burn off the sugar. Not that it makes a difference." I said as an afterthought. "He's still hyper after a day of running around."

"We could make it a breakfast party," Shlomo said, "And the cake will be dessert. We can have waffles with frosting, I can make some pancakes, and my father could make omelets. He makes the best omelets."

"Sounds good to me," I said. "I wonder if Hagrid likes normal foods."

"Why wouldn't he?" Harry asked.

"Hogwarts has all kinds of fancy foods," I explained. "It could be some are just British foods and that's why I never heard of them, or it could be that they're magical foods. They have things like Yorkshire pudding, treacle tart, steak and kidney pie, and pumpkin juice. Being thrown into two new cultures at once makes me not sure which foods are from which cultures."

"Yorkshire pudding is a British food," Harry told me, "But since it's not a breakfast food, Hagrid won't expect it in the morning. Treacle tart is a dessert."

"Do you have a recipe for it?" Shlomo asked. "Maybe I could make it if it's a popular British dessert."

"I could try to find one," I told him. "I'll check upstairs later."

"Steak and kidney pie is a meat pie," Harry continued.

"We're having a dairy breakfast so meat is out, but maybe I could make it for supper one night," Shlomo said.

"It's more of a dinner food anyway," Harry said, "but what do you mean by a dairy breakfast?"

"Jews don't mix dairy with meat," I told him.

"What about bacon?" Harry asked curiously.

"Bacon comes from pig," I told him. "Jews don't eat pig meat."

"Strange," Harry said.

"I suppose we are," I agreed.

"Does it bother you that I don't keep your rules?" Harry asked.

"Of course not," I told him. "You have your heritage and we have ours."

"What else did you say they serve at Hogwarts?" Harry asked.

"Pumpkin juice," I told him.

"I never heard of pumpkin juice," Harry commented.

"I think the magic world has lots of pumpkin foods," I said. "I know they have pumpkin pasties. I'm not sure what else."

"Are you sure it's okay if Hagrid comes?" Harry asked nervously. "I don't want you to do any extra work, but he was the first person who ever gave me a birthday present."

"What's one more person?" I asked. "You saw that Yisrael likes him."

I realized what the problem is at Harry's birthday breakfast. None of my chairs are big enough for Hagrid! He ended up sitting on the counter. I apologized that he can't reach the table from there, but he brushed it off.

That afternoon, I had an unexpected visitor. One of the goblins from Gringotts came to update us on the robbery situation. Quirrell was caught in the attempt thanks to my warning.

"What's going to happen to him?" I asked the goblin.

"He's locked in the vault," the goblin said triumphantly. "He did the imperius curse on one of my colleagues, but since we knew which vault was supposed to be robbed, we had a few extra guards hiding in the surrounding tunnels. The thief thought that if he gets a goblin to open the vault, he would be able to rob it, but we made sure he was the one who touched it instead, so he got sucked inside."

"How long are you keeping him there for?" I asked.

"Until he dies," the goblin said cheerfully.

"But then, you'll never find out who sent him," I realized.

"So you think we should interrogate him and find out?" the goblin asked with a wicked grin. "We just deal with the one who actually broke in. Whoever sent him is allowed to send us some more prisoners."

Rats. There goes the plan for exposing Voldemort now unless I could somehow convince this goblin.

"Thanks for keeping me updated," I said. "How did you find out where I live?"

"I overheard you tell that Hagrid guy that Regina Goldstein is your aunt," the goblin confessed, "so I asked Dirk Creswell at the ministry to get me Regina's address. I went to her first and tried talking to her. She didn't seem to remember the conversation she overheard, but she gave me your address. She may be the victim of a memory spell."

"I appreciate all the effort you put into finding me," I told him.

"We appreciate the tip you gave us," he said.

"What's your name?" I asked curiously. The only goblin I remembered from the books was Griphook, but I knew he took Harry to his vault so I couldn't have been talking to him about the planned burglary last week. Then again, we went to Diagon Alley a week early, so maybe Griphook didn't take Harry to his vault this time.

"Gornuk," he told me.

"According to Regina, the two people she heard plotting the robbery were Voldemort and Quirrell. Did you get both of them?" I asked.

"We only got Quirrell," Gornuk told me. "Voldemort hasn't been seen since he was defeated ten years ago."

"Imagine if the goblins are the ones who captured him," I said. "You could keep him in vault and video tape him going crazy by himself. People would be willing to pay for such a video."

"I don't understand this video concept," Gornuk said. "It must be a muggle term. Besides, that's not the way we do things in Gringotts."

Oh well. At least I tried. As I thanked Gornuk and walked him out, I wondered when Dumbledore would realize that he's missing a professor.


	10. Chapter 10

August 1991

Dovid's point of view

Harry has been spending lots of time at our house lately. Even worse was when he mentioned to the Dursleys what Shlomo bakes for Shabbos. All of a sudden, Dudley started joining us on Shabbos just to get his treats.

Interestingly enough, the 1991 Hebrew calendar and 2018 are just a day off. I realized that when we missed the first fast day of the summer since in 1991 it came out June 30 while in 2018 it's July 1. Feige's brother's yartzeit was also a day earlier although it seemed strange for her to observe the yartzeit when her brother is a healthy one-year-old boy and won't be dying of cancer for 22 more years.

Now my father's yartzeit is approaching. Back in New York in 1991, my father's health was already declining, but he still lived until the summer before Shlomo was born. It seemed appropriate though to mourn my father throughout his illness. I just wished that I could somehow contact my New York 1991 family and tell them not to repeat the mistakes they made during my childhood. The summer of 91 was when I was having trouble finding a high school that would take me since my father was sick and completely uninvolved in my education, my family had no money and couldn't afford tuition for any yeshivas, and my mother was so overwhelmed by everything else going on that school was the last thing on her mind. I ended up in a school for problem kids even though I wasn't a problem.

Feige and Shlomo always get annoyed when I discuss my childhood. The truth is that during the first few years we were married, Feige was very sympathetic and tried to encourage me to speak about it. After around three years, she had enough. She often told me that I should pay a therapist to listen to me, because at least a therapist has to listen and be polite. Since she heard everything I have to say on the matter so many times, she had no interest in hearing it again.

Instead, I told stories about my father's good days before he got sick. Shlomo found my father's eighth grade year book which was very entertaining.

This year I had a new audience. Harry was interested in hearing about my father. He asked how I know so much about my father if he died.

"My father got sick when I was twelve," I explained. "I remember from before he was sick."

"What about your mother?" Harry asked.

"What about her?" I repeated.

"Where is she?" Harry wanted to know.

"She spends her winters in Florida and her summers in New York," I explained.

"What about your parents?" Harry asked Feige.

"They live in New York," Feige told him. "My mother is a teacher and my father is an office comptroller."

"So you're the only one missing a parent and you remember him," Harry said sadly.

"Did you ask Hagrid about your parents?" Feige asked. "I'm sure he remembers them."

"A drop," Harry said. "Did you know your grandparents?"

"My mother's parents live in New York," Feige said. "My father's father died when I was eleven from stomach cancer and his mother died when Shlomo was one from skin cancer. They were 93 and 98 when they died."

"My mother's mother died a week before Yisrael was born," I told Harry. "My mother's father died when I was a teenager. I was pretty young when my father's parents died, but I remember going to their house a lot. My grandfather used to hit me with a belt."

"I don't remember my parents at all," Harry said.

"Can't you ask your aunt about them?" I suggested.

"She won't talk about them," Harry mourned.

"It's probably too painful," I reasoned.

"I didn't even know how they died until you moved in," Harry said. "The whole world knew my story except me."

"Maybe some of your teachers at Hogwarts can tell you about them," I said.

"I don't know if I want to ask," Harry said. "I never got along with teachers."

"Maybe you could ask Hagrid to ask all the professors," Feige suggested. "They could put together any pictures of your parents that are in the school, any awards they got, records of their detentions, or anything that interests you about them."

"I'm not asking," Harry said. "Hagrid was already surprised at how little I know."

"So what about Dumbledore?" I asked. "He left you with your aunt and uncle so he is aware that he's the reason you don't know much about your parents."

"I'm not much of a letter writer," Harry said.

"Today may be your lucky day," I told him. "You're in a room with two published writers."

"I didn't know you're a writer," Harry commented.

Shlomo laughed.

"My father couldn't even write his own college papers," Shlomo told him. "My mother had to help him a lot."

"She just proof read them," I lied.

"You like to write?" Harry asked Feige.

"I do," she told him, "but Dovid is being over generous calling me a published writer. The poems I had published were in magazines that don't pay and the jokes I had published is something anyone could do. It's not that hard to write down funny things people say. I don't mind writing a letter to Dumbledore for you."

"Who's the other published writer?" Harry asked curiously.

"Shlomo won a poetry contest and had his poem published in the paper," I bragged.

"I'll do the letter," Feige said, getting a piece of paper and a pen, "If you don't mind sending it with your owl."

Two days later, Harry cheerfully showed us letters he got from lots of teachers. Professor Dumbledore sent a group shot and circled Harry's parents. Professor McGonagall wrote down stories about Harry's father's antics in school. Professor Flitwick wrote a nice letter praising Lily's charm work. Harry seemed thrilled to have a connection to his parents. I just hoped we didn't mess up the timeline too much.


	11. Chapter 11

Late August- September 1, 1991

Yisrael's point of view

Shlomo's going somewhere. I don't know where, but I'm not going. Mommy, Tatti, Shlomo and Harry keep talking about trunks and suitcases. An elephant has a trunk. So do cars, but people don't. We put suitcases in trunks. We use small suitcases if we're going away for Shabbos or going to the country for a few days. We use big suitcases when we go to Florida for Pesach.

Shlomo keeps putting things into a big suitcase. He is using the brown suitcase that Tatti bought when we went to Florida. He didn't want to use the purple suitcase because he thinks people might make fun of him if he does.

Shlomo worked hard with his packing. Mommy helped him and kept reminding him he will be home every Shabbos so he doesn't need to overpack. He put these funny black costumes in the big part of his suitcase with his underwear and socks. He put in a few old Shabbos shirts, leaving his good ones home. He also packed a few t-shirts and a sweatshirt.

"I guess I don't need my suit," Shlomo said.

"You'll get dressed for Shabbos at home," Mommy told him. "You're not ruining a suit in the fireplace."

I wondered where Shlomo was going and why I can't go with him.

I watched Shlomo put a few pairs of pants in his suitcase.

"I don't know if people wear clothes under their robes," Mommy told him.

"It's better to have and not need then to need and not have," Shlomo answered.

"That's true," agreed Mommy.

Shlomo put lots of books in the suitcase. He also put in a small pot. Maybe he's cooking in Florida. Last time we went, Savti didn't want Shlomo to cook or bake. I'm pretty sure Savti has pots though because she did lots of cooking.

Shlomo put a stick in the front pocket of his suitcase. I don't know why Mommy let him bring a stick inside. She always tells me that sticks are dirty and should stay outside.

On Sunday morning, we all got into the car. I sat in the back with Shlomo and Harry. We stopped at a train station and got out of the car. Tatti took two suitcases out of the trunk. Harry called his suitcase a trunk. He called the car trunk a boot. I wear boots when it snows.

We had to walk through a wall at the train station. There was a red train on the tracks. I tried going on, but Mommy didn't let me.

Shlomo and Harry put their suitcases on the train. They talked to Mommy and Tatti for too long. I wasn't interested in what they were saying. There were lots of people all over. I tried to pull a boy's hair, but Mommy stopped me. I put out my arms to a very tall black boy hoping he will pick me up like he did to his sister, but Mommy moved me away from him and apologized. I tried to pull a girl's hair. When she turned to look at me, I realized her teeth are even more crooked then mine. I smiled with my crooked teeth.

After we stood there for way too long, a family with red hair came through. I threw myself at one of the boys, trying to pull him towards Harry. Mommy stopped me and apologized again.

"What's wrong with him?" the boy I was trying to pull asked. "Is he barmy?"

"I'm sorry," Mommy said again. "Yisrael has autism and has a hard time communicating with words. He is probably trying to tell us something, but I'm not sure what."

"You reckon he's trying to tell us something about Ronnekins?" an older boy with red hair asked with a grin.

"Yeah," said an identical redhead. "Probably that Ron is a git."

"It could be something simple," Mommy said. "Maybe he thinks your brother would make a good friend for Shlomo or Harry. Or it could be something big. We have no way of knowing if Yisrael doesn't talk."

"What kind of something big?" the boy I was trying to get asked suspiciously.

"Once Yisrael kept asking to go to my grandmother's house," Mommy told them. "I kept telling him that it's too early, but he didn't stop. Finally, I went and she was having a dizzy spell. She said she was dizzy all morning. After that, if Yisrael asked to go to her, I called right away. Once she was having a mini heart attack, once her lung just collapsed, and other times, either she forgot to hang up her phone or she burned a cake."

"How does he let you know if he doesn't talk?" the boy asked suspiciously.

"Yisrael has some words," Mommy said. "When he wants to go to my grandparents' house, he says, 'Babbi house'."

That's something I could say. I thought very hard about the boy's pocket and said, "Ouse."

"Is there something you're trying to say about their house?" Mommy asked.

I scratched her hard to let her know that I don't appreciate her playing dumb. While she was looking at her scratches, I tried again. "M ouse," I said this time.

"Is there a mouse in the house?" Mommy asked.

I touched my pocket and pointed to the boy. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a rat.

"That's why you're bothering me?" he complained. "Yes, I have a rat in my pocket. Big deal."

"No," I said.

"Are you saying that it's not a rat?" Mommy asked.

"No tat," I agreed.

"Is that a mouse?" Mommy tried again.

"No," I said again. I touched Tatti as a hint.

"You see the rat?" Tatti asked me.

"No," I said, touching Tatti again.

Nobody seemed to know what I was talking about. Sometimes, it could be difficult to deal with neurotypical people.

"Tatti tat," I said, trying again.

"Tatti's a rat?" Shlomo asked.

"No," I said.

"Tatti's not a rat," Tatti told me. "I'm a person."

"Tat pooduh," I said, pointing at the rat.

"The rat is a person?" Mommy translated.

"Yes!" I said emphatically.

The redhead lady pulled out a stick and did something so fast that the rat turned into a person. All the redheads were yelling and screaming and waving their sticks while different things happened to the man on the floor.

"Keep him alive," Mommy told them. "The aurors will want to question him."

Somehow, the man ended up tied in ropes, maybe from the red lady's stick.

"Also, check for a dark mark," Mommy suggested.

The lady rolled up his sleeve and showed the mark.

"You lot get on the train!" She told her kids. "We're going to need the aurors to deal with this scum!"

The aurors came while the train was leaving. They tried asking me questions, but Mommy explained that I can't answer.


	12. Chapter 12

September 1-2, 1991

Shlomo's point of view

I sat down on the train with Harry and the redhead boy who I knew had to be Ron. Not wanting to call him by his name before being introduced, I quickly ask him his name.

"Ron Weasley," he said. "You're brother is insane, but in a good way."

"That's one way of putting it," I agreed. "I'm Shlomo Goldstein by the way. I'm sorry my brother caused you to lose your pet."

"Are you mental?" Ron asked. "I wouldn't want that man sleeping in my bed."

"I never knew Yisrael had that in him," Harry said. "Whenever I see him, he's either listening to music, eating, or climbing."

"I thought you were also his brother," Ron said.

"No, I'm a neighbor," Harry said. "My name is Harry."

"And you're not a Goldstein, I suppose," Ron said.

"No, my last name is Potter," Harry told him.

"Are you really Harry Potter?" Ron asked. "And you have the scar?"

"Harry," I said sweetly. "I hope you won't be offended if I read instead of watching your fan boy drool over you."

"I'm not a fan boy," Ron said, "I'm just surprised."

"It's okay," Harry told him. "Shlomo is always looking for an excuse to read when he has a new book."

The truth is that my new books were all actually old books. I now had lots of pre 1991 books. I was reading Dead Air which I found behind the book Batboy. I quickly got absorbed in my book and barely noticed when Fred and George came in and introduced themselves. They went back out quickly, so I must not have missed much.

I was almost halfway through the book when we were interrupted again, this by the lunch trolley. Like Ron, I pulled out my sandwiches. I opened my sandwiches to see what they are. Ron did the same to one of his sandwiches.

"Do you need to open all of them?" Ron asked once he saw that I didn't close them.

"I'm going to mix and match," I told him. "I have a cream cheese sandwich, a grilled cheese sandwich, an egg sandwich, and a soy nut butter sandwich. If I take the egg out of the egg sandwich, drop it on top of the cream cheese, scrape the cheese off the grilled cheese, and stick it to the soy nut butter, I just need one piece of the soy nut butter sandwich and one piece of the cream cheese sandwich to have the best sandwich."

"That's disgusting," Ron commented. "I guess there's no chance of you swapping a normal sandwich for one of mine. That way you can add corn beef to your sandwich."

"I keep kosher," I told him, "But if you want, I can manage without the egg, especially since my mother didn't send any ketchup. Or if you want something really good, you could take the slice of bread with soy nut butter and put it with the extra cream cheese slice. They taste really good together."

"No they don't," Harry told him. "Shlomo is a bit crazy when it comes to food. You can share some the stuff I bought."

Ron ate some of Harry's stuff and my egg sandwich while I continued my book. A while later, Neville came in looking for his toad. Less than a paragraph later, Neville returned with Hermione. Hermione started talking a mile a minute about how she read all her books and is the first witch in her family. When she asked us our names, we all answered.

"Are you really Harry Potter?" Hermione asked.

"Oh no," I said. "Now we have a fan girl coming to drool. I better get back to my book."

"What are you reading?" she asked me.

I held it up so she can see.

"Did you finish all your school books?" she asked.

"Of course not," I told her. "I checked the table of contents and the index and saw there was nothing about sports. After that, I read the about the authors and saw that none of them mentioned any sports related jobs. Therefore, I decided that those aren't the type of book I would read for fun."

"You should really read school books before doing your pleasure reading," she reprimanded me.

She turned her attention back to Harry.

"I read all about you," she told him. "You're in Modern Magical History, The Rise and Fall of Dark Arts, and Great Wizarding Events of the 20th Century."

"I thought you're not into fiction," I told her.

"Those books are nonfiction," she said.

"That's funny," I commented. "Harry never mentioned that he gave any interviews, and I don't think anyone heard from Voldemort since that happened."

"Don't say his name!" Ron told me.

"Why not?" I asked. "You do realize he made that name up. His real name is Tom Marlvoro Riddle. He went to school with my aunt."

"None of the books mention it," Hermione seemed miffed by not having the information first.

"That's why you should read fiction," I told her. "This way you won't be disappointed if you don't find out all the facts."

"I have to help Neville find his toad," she said as she left the compartment.

I managed to read two more chapters before the next interruption. A blond boy who had to be Draco Malfoy came in with his two gorillas.

"Is it true that Harry Potter is in this compartment?" Draco asked.

"Oh, no!" I groaned. "Another fan boy coming to drool."

"I'm not a fan boy," Draco said. "I merely came to introduce myself."

"That's strange," I told him. "I don't recall hearing your name, and I'm pretty sure you never asked me what my name is."

"My name's Malfoy," he said. "Draco Malfoy."

Draco looked at Ron and said, "No need to ask who you are. My father told me that all Weasleys have red hair, freckles and more kids than they could afford."

"Well I didn't need my parents to tell me that all fan boys have big eyes, open mouths, and drool coming out," I retorted.

"I'm not a fan boy," Draco said again. "I just need to make sure Potter meets the right sort of wizard, which you and Weasley obviously aren't."

"I could tell the wrong sort for myself," Harry told him.

"I'd be careful if I were you," Draco said. "Unless you're more polite, you will go the same way as your parents. They also didn't know what's good for them. You hang out with riffraff like the Weasleys, it's going to rub off on you."

"Say that again," Ron said as he and Harry both stood up.

"You're going to fight us?" Malfoy sneered.

"Unless you get out now," Harry said.

"We don't feel like leaving," Draco said. "We ate all our food, but you still have."

"Here," I said, handing over my two extra pieces of bread.

"What's that?" Draco asked, backing away in disgust.

"My mother always gives me extra food so I can share with those who are not fortunate enough to have their own," I told him. "I already ate the cheese off this sandwich, but you can have the bread."

"I have some sandwiches," Ron said politely. "They may be dried out by now, but since you're so hungry, I'm sure you won't mind."

"I could afford much fancier foods than you can," Draco retorted. "I just ate my food already since it was good."

"My food was also good," I told him. "I had a cream cheese, soy nut butter, and grilled cheese sandwich. I was going to put an egg in it too, but my mother didn't give me any ketchup."

"I don't eat muggle foods," Draco said smugly. "I'm a proud wizard, and I eat meals that are fit for a wizard of my status."

"Too bad," I said. "You're missing out on the good food."

Hermione came back in before Draco could come up with a good comeback. She told us to hurry up and put on our robes.

"It was nice meeting you," I said to Draco and his posse. "If you're still hungry, I could give you my extra bread."

Draco and his cronies walked out in a huff as we put on our robes. After the announcement, we left the train and went with Hagrid on the boats. Professor McGonagall met us at the castle and gave her usual speech before leaving us to hear the ghosts' argument. I waited eagerly for my turn for the sorting hat.

"Goldstein, Anthony," McGonagall called.

I eagerly sat down on the stool and listened to hear what the hat would say.

"You're a Goldstein," the hat said. "All Goldsteins end up in-"

"Wait," I interrupted. "Are you really not going to see if I'm fit for the house before sorting me?"

"I can see you're smart," the hat said. "You just spent your whole train ride reading. You won a poetry contest, was runner up in your school science fair, and have a straight A report card. Obviously you should be a"

"Wait," I interrupted again. "What about the other houses?"

"Gryffindor is the house of the brave," the hat told me.

"Are you saying that I'm not?" I challenged.

"Care to explain why you don't go swimming in camp?" the hat asked me.

"I'm not aquaphobic," I said indignantly. "I don't know who's telling lies about me."

"So you skipped any camp trip involving water just for the fun of it?" the hat asked again.

"Shut up," I told it.

"Hufflepuff is for the hard working and loyal," the hat told me.

"I'm hardworking," I said.

"What about loyal?" the hat asked.

"What about it?" I asked back. "When wasn't I loyal?"

"How about in 4th grade when your good friend was bullying little kids and you pushed him and embarrassed him in front of the whole bus?"

"I was doing what's right," I told the hat. "It's not right to pick on smaller kids."

"Hufflepuffs are loyal," the hat said again.

"What about Slytherin?" I asked.

"You may be a good fit for Slytherin," the hat agreed. "Do you really prefer Slytherin to Ravenclaw?"

"No," I said. "I just wanted to know my shortcomings now so I know what I need to improve."

"Ravenclaw!" the hat called out.

I sat down and waited for the sorting to finish.

When everyone else's food appeared in the middle of the table, my double wrapped and sealed burger and knish appeared on a plastic plate. My name was written in English and Hebrew across the seal.

"Why do you have different food?" a boy who introduced himself as Michael Corner asked.

"I keep kosher," I explained.

As I was wondering where to wash, a cup of water and a basin appeared beside me. I whispered thanks to the house elf who must have provided them before washing and eating.

"Why do you wash your hands like that?" Terry Boot asked.

"Religious reasons," I said, not wanting to elaborate.

When everyone else got their desserts, I got my homemade chocolate cake. It was as good as I expected, having sampled the raw batter while mixing.

When Dumbledore made his announcements, he added one that he probably didn't say in the books.

"Our Defense Against Dark Arts Professor has not shown up yet. If anyone knows where Professor Quirrell is, please inform a staff member as soon as possible."

"I wonder if he's the guy locked in a Gringotts vault," I said aloud.

"Someone's locked in a vault?" one of the girls asked.

"On July 31, a goblin told my mother that a thief got sucked into vault 713," I explained. "I wonder if our esteemed professor was the thief."

One of the prefects ran to tell Professor Dumbledore. He asked me which goblin told my mother and ran off.

I was tired by the time I got to my dorm. I quickly put on pajamas and went to sleep.

The next morning, I was eating my egg sandwich while some of the older students were reading newspapers.

"Are you related to Yisrael Goldstein?" someone asked me.

"He's my brother," I answered.

"Is he really a silent seer?" the older student asked.

"What?!" I exclaimed. "He makes tons of noises! He just can't talk!"

I took the newspaper and skimmed through it. There was a front page article about how Pettigrew was found alive and sent to Azkaban for being a death eater. Another article was titled "Sirius Black, innocent!" There was one that proclaimed that the body of a Hogwarts professor was found in a Gringotts vault. But the most interesting article was called "The Silent Seer". It discussed the quiet boy who can't talk but somehow knew that Peter was hiding as a rat.

After I returned the paper, Dumbledore made another announcement.

"All Defense Against Dark Arts classes are cancelled for this week," he told us. "I hope to find a new professor by next week so that we don't fall behind. Enjoy your free period."

AN: We are currently accepting applicants (and nominations) for the Defense Against Dark Arts position. If you are interested in having a specific character as the teacher, please let me know, as the position is still open.


	13. Chapter 13

September 1991

Feige's point of view

It was pretty nerve racking to be home while Shlomo is off in the unknown land of Hogwarts. I was even more nervous about Yisrael's first day of school. After all, Shlomo is capable of telling me what's happening while Yisrael isn't.

I brought Yisrael in the first day and made sure to talk to the teacher, director, nurse, and assistants. I made sure they all knew about Yisrael's allergies and asthma and that they could only give Yisrael food that I sent in for him. I clarified that they will let me know in advance if there is a party so I could send in appropriate food. I confirmed that they all know how to use an epipen and where his asthma medicine and Benadryl are kept.

I didn't get any bad reports about Yisrael when I picked him up in the afternoon, so I guess he was okay. He seemed pretty happy.

When Tipsy came to get Shlomo's food, I asked about him. House elves aren't supposed to be seen so she didn't talk to Shlomo at all, but was able to tell me that Shlomo is in Ravenclaw. I knew I would get a more detailed report when Shlomo came home for Shabbos.

I waited eagerly for Shlomo to come home for Shabbos. I heard him the second he came out of the floo.

"This is an awful way to travel," he complained as soon as he was home. "Who thought it's a good idea to travel through fire anyway?"

Over Shabbos, we all heard more about Hogwarts. Shlomo mentioned that there is no Defense Against Dark Arts teacher since Quirrell is dead. I felt a little bad, but not too terrible since the life Quirrell had in book one wasn't much of a life.

Shlomo told me that Yisrael is famous. I thought it was strange that the papers called him a silent seer. That seems to be an oxymoron. Pettigrew is in Azkaban and Sirius is out.

Shlomo spoke a little about his classes. He was more interested in his classmates. He had lots of stories about Michael and Terry. He saw Harry occasionally, but said that fans were making too big of a deal over him.

Shlomo didn't go back after Shabbos since Rosh Hashana started Sunday night. Back in New York, I always went to the early minyan and came back in time for Dovid to go to the 8:00 shacharis. Radlett is not the same minyan factory as New York. Not only that, schools are open on Rosh Hashana, but of course I couldn't send Yisrael. I couldn't bring him into shul either since he doesn't know how to be quiet. I haven't met enough people here for there to be someone I could trust to watch him during shul. Luckily, Dovid knows how to blow shofar, so he was able to blow it for me at home. I don't think I ever missed New York as much as I did on Rosh Hashana.

I had another disappointment in the afternoon. Manhattan is an island, and we often go for walks along the East River. When it's time for tashlich, the whole neighborhood goes down to the river. I was once again reminded that I'm not in New York. Most people in Radlett say tashlich somewhere, so there must be a body of water nearby, but as I spent more time in Surrey than in Radlett, I was more familiar with Surrey's river. There were some other Jews, but they were mostly older. Most of the people we saw did not appear to be Jewish.

On Tuesday night, after havdala, I nervously lit the fire in the fireplace so Shlomo could go back to Hogwarts. I handed him the floo powder and watched in amazement as my own child traveled by fire.

I found out the next Shabbos that Hogwarts still didn't have a Defense Against Dark Arts teacher. At least that's one subject Shlomo doesn't have to make up after yom tov.

We spent lots of time discussing possible teachers. I told Shlomo that in book two, an idiot named Lockhart was the teacher. He was full of himself and couldn't do much magic. Book number three was the first good teacher. Remus Lupin was a qualified teacher due to his experience in the order of the phoenix back when Voldemort was powerful. We discussed whether or not Sirius Black would make a good teacher. I said definitely not; Shlomo wasn't so sure. Moody probably would have been a good teacher in book four if he was given a chance to teach. We agreed that all aurors should be able to teach Defense Against Dark Arts. Umbridge was horrible, but Snape definitely knew his stuff. Slughorn should be eager to come out of retirement in order to teach the boy who lived. I wondered if Dumbledore was even looking for a teacher.

Yisrael was so excited when Shlomo came home for Yom Kippur. I knew he would be disappointed. For Yisrael, the main part of any Shabbos or yom tov is the food. The only problem is that while Yisrael doesn't fast on Yom Kippur, he doesn't get yom tov food. I give him whatever I have in the house that doesn't need preparation.

Succos was a little harder to prepare for. Back in New York, we lived in an apartment. All the orthodox Jews paid a membership fee for the sukkah, and the money went to a contractor who took care of building the sukkah. All the men and boys had to do was put up the scach, and anyone who wanted did decorations. In England, we would be responsible for our own sukkah. Not only that, but Shlomo was staying in school over chol hamoed. He would need a sukkah for Hogwarts.

Dovid asked in shul and found out where he could buy everything we need. He bought a regular sukkah for our yard and a popup sukkah for Shlomo to take to school. I hoped Shlomo wouldn't feel self conscious, but he usually doesn't.

Decorating the sukkah was our next problem. We didn't have any of the old decorations that the kids made in school previous years. Neither of them goes to a Jewish school, so there weren't any succos themed art projects. I bought some decorations at a local store, and gave the kids markers, paper and scissors and told them to have fun with the rest of the decorations.

In addition to a sukkah, Shlomo would need his own lulav and esrog. He always gets his own, but this time, he would have to take it to school with him. I dreaded to think about what Shlomo would say if someone asks him about it. While he could give a true serious answer, I know him well enough to know that he would probably say something silly just to get a reaction. I really hoped that for the rest of the yamim tovim, we would be back home, and no I'm not calling England home.


	14. Chapter 14

September 1991

Shlomo's point of view

It was strange to keep missing class. When I was there, it was hard to keep up. History of Magic was no big deal. Nobody pays attention anyway. I always sat with a book and read while Binns talked about who knows what. Herbology was fun and easy to make up. Potions wasn't too hard either. Flitwick only lectured so far, so there wasn't much to make up for Charms. Transfiguration was hard whether I was there or not, and as Astronomy was in the middle of the night, even when I am there physically, I'm not really there.

Since there was still no Defense Against Dark Arts teacher, Professor Flitwick had an optional study group in the common room every night. He didn't let the first years do any of the spells that he taught the older students. He demonstrated spells to everyone, explained dueling techniques to all of us, but when it came time to actually try the spells, he always specified the year that could do the spell. For some reason, we first years were left out.

I was eager to go home again for Succos. The sukkah didn't look bad even if my father built it and my brother made half of the decorations. I had fun with new sharpies that Tatti bought and made a few signs. I also used sharpies for my homework. Writing with a quill is hard and messy and a sharpie doesn't look that different.

Tatti kept complaining that he wished we were back in New York. Mommy told him that whenever we're home for succos, Tatti complains that he doesn't like the communal sukkah. Tatti said that it's worth it not to have to do all this work.

It was hard to floo back to school with my sukkah, lulav, and esrog.

"What's that?" Professor Flitwick asked when I came out of his fireplace.

"Things for the holiday," I said.

"I remember when your cousin Jonathan used those," Flitwick reminisced. "He was so secretive when it came to his religion."

"I'm not secretive," I insisted, determined not to be like Jonathan. "This is what I'm going to eat in the next few days, and I'm going to shake these two objects when I pray every morning."

"What's the symbolism of these things?" Professor Flitwick wanted to know.

"This is a sukkah," I explained. "When the Jews were in the desert, they lived in little huts like this, so every year, we live in one for the week of Succos."

"But you're not sleeping in it?" Flitwick made sure.

"I don't know how safe it is to sleep outside here," I confirmed. "In New York, people didn't sleep in their sukkahs because we had communal sukkahs, and also they didn't think it was safe. I don't need any animals from the forest thinking that I'm food."

"What about those two things that you shake?" Flitwick wanted to know.

"These are a lulav and esrog," I said. "I'm actually not sure why we use them, but I'm sure they represent lots of things; I just don't know what."

When I walked into the common room with all my gear, I got lots of strange looks.

"Shlomo," Michael called out. "Is there a reason you're carrying a tree and a tent?"

"Sure," I said. "They don't fit in the box with the lemon."

I held out my esrog to show what else I had.

"What exactly are you going to do with those?" Terry wanted to know.

"Guide them with my life," I responded. "They cost more than everything you brought to Hogwarts combined."

"Wouldn't it be safer at home?" Michael asked.

"My parents don't let me stay home the whole week," I told him. "I can't use them at home if I'm here."

"How do you use it?" Terry asked.

I opened the sukkah in the common room.

"I will be taking this outside and eating in it for the rest of the week," I told my shocked house mates.

"Whatever for?" Padma asked.

"This way, nobody could bother me," I lied.

"Just joking." I added when I saw the looks on their faces. "For religious reasons, I need to eat in this for the week."

"And what's with the tree and lemon?" Michael asked.

"I know I don't know how should I know," I said to the tune normally used for ana Hashem hoshia na.

"What?!" a few people said at once.

"Just kidding," I said. "I used them for praying, but those aren't the words that I say. The Hebrew words do have the same consonants as I know, I don't know, how should I know, but the vowels and meanings are completely different."

"So what does it mean?" Terry asked.

"Please G-d save us," I responded.

"So you hold a tree and lemon and ask G-d to save you?" Michael asked.

"They symbolize different things," I said. "I'm not going into the whole explanation now."

The next morning, I had an audience when I davened. I took my siddur, lulav, and esrog outside along with the sukkah. I opened the sukkah outside, put down the lulav and esrog, and davened. When I got to hallel, I took out the lulav and esrog. I said the bracha aloud before shaking in all directions.

"He's insane," I heard Michael whisper.

"Totally barmy," added Terry.

"Off his rocker," Kevin chimed in.

"There must be a reason for what he's doing," Stephen commented.

"Sure," Michael said, "but we could still tease him about it."

I held the lulav and esrog for hallel, and made sure to say ana hashem hoshia na aloud.

"He did it!" Terry exclaimed. "I know, I don't know, how should I know!"

"Okay, show's over," I said, putting the lulav and esrog away. "I just have to daven mussaf, and then I could eat."

"You're done with the tree and lemon?" Michael asked.

"Until tomorrow morning," I told them. "And it will be the same thing, so there's no reason to watch again."

"That's good," Kevin said. "We have Astronomy tonight, so I don't want to get up so early tomorrow."

I forgot about that. I always have trouble getting up early for davening on Thursday mornings. The other days, the common room is still empty when I daven, but on Thursday, by the time I'm halfway through, everyone is coming and going. Now I need more time for mussaf. I wondered how I would manage.

Somehow, I did manage. I even had time to choke down my waffles after. It didn't take so long since my mother is still refusing to send me ketchup. I was looking forward to going home again for the last days. As I was leaving the common room with my stuff, I noticed everyone looking again.

"Bye tree," Michael called. "Bye lemon, bye tent."

"I guess I don't deserve my own good-bye," I commented.

"Bye Shlomo," Michael and Terry called together.

"Bye Anthony," Stephen called out.

"Bye Michael and Terry," I said back. "If I would know who Anthony is, I'm sure he would say good-bye too."

"Isn't he Anthony?" I heard someone whisper as I left. I figured that my dorm mates could have the honor of explaining my Hebrew and English name and which one I prefer.


	15. Chapter 15

September 29-30 1991

Dovid's point of view

It's really weird being away from home for all the yamim tovim. Succos is almost over, and I'm still figuring this place out. I only go to Radlett for davening normally, but with yom tov, we're spending so much time in Radlett. I wondered what Simchas Torah is like here. I'm used to New York where I know what's happening in each shul.

Shmini Atzeres was our last day in the sukkah. On Sunday night, I looked around at my handiwork and said, "Our last night here. If we were home, there would be people waiting for tables."

"Not yet," Feige said. "The people who have to wait are the people who come down late. Usually, the first night of yom tov, everyone comes down on time. Besides, we still have tomorrow lunch here."

"I miss my mother's stuffed cabbages," I said during the main course. "How come you never make them?"

"Meatballs are a good alternative," Feige reasoned. "Stuffed cabbages are a lot of work, and you're the only one who likes the cabbage part."

"My mother used to make them for everybody," I reminisced. "Do you remember how she used to fill up her freezer?"

"She hasn't done it in a while," Feige said. "But I do remember that she served them Rosh Hashana, Succos, Shmini Atzeres, and Simchas Torah. When she served them with a main course, Shaindy complained that she's making everyone fat since there was too much food, but if she didn't serve a main course, Arnie complained that he was still hungry. You're mother made massive cabbages. I don't know how anyone could be hungry after eating one."

I thought longingly of my siblings back in New York and New Jersey. I can't even call them on the phone since in 1991, they were still kids.

"How's Harry adjusting to school?" I asked Shlomo, changing the subject.

"He seems okay whenever I see him," Shlomo said. "He's always with Ron Weasley. He has lots of fans drooling over him all day."

In a way, it was nice not to be asked to be chazzan on yom tov. I was chazzan on my father's yartzeit, so everybody in shul knew I could daven, but they have their regular chazzanim. Back in New York, my father- in-law used to daven geshem. It was interesting to hear a chazzan with a British accent instead.

"Things sure are strange here," I commented during lunch.

"What happened now?" Feige asked.

"Nothing happened," I said. "I'm just hoping that next year, we'll be back at home."

"In order for that to happen," Feige said, "We need to destroy all the horcruxes and then get rid of Voldemort."

"How can we do that?" Shlomo wanted to know.

"The next Sunday that you're in school, ask Harry to go exploring with you," Feige told him. "He could bring Ron and Hermione or whichever friends he wants, and you could bring Michael and Terry or whichever friends you want. Go to Myrtle's bathroom and ask her about how she died. You could tell her that Regina is your aunt. Have everyone look for the chamber of secrets. When you find the snake on the faucet, remind Harry that he can talk to snakes. Have him open the chamber by hissing open."

"That sounds dangerous," I told her. "He shouldn't risk his life."

"The snake won't come out until Harry tells it to," Feige said. "They could get teachers to go into the chamber with them for protection. Once you're down there, have Harry ask the basilisk for some of his venom."

"What if it wants to kill?" Shlomo asked wisely.

"Have Harry tell it that there is an enemy you want it to kill, but the enemy split his soul in seven pieces, so you need all the pieces destroyed before you could kill him," Feige said.

"Do you really think a snake could understand that?" I challenged.

"I hope so," Feige said.

"Shlomo's not risking his life on your hopes," I responded.

"What if the snake says that we're not his masters?" Shlomo asked.

"If Harry says that he's the heir of Slytherin, the snake should listen to him," Feige said.

"Do basilisks eat rats?" Shlomo wanted to know.

"I don't know," Feige answered. "You could google it after Shabbos."

"I wonder if they put ketchup on their rats to make them taste better," Shlomo said. "Maybe they eat other rodents too."

"The main thing is not to look at its eyes," Feige reminded him. "That could kill or petrify."

"What happens if someone gets petrified?" Shlomo wanted to know.

"It's better not to find out," Feige told him.

"What has the basilisk been eating all these years?" Shlomo asked.

"After yom tov, you could google it," Feige responded.

"How does the basilisk know who it needs to listen to?" was Shlomo's next question.

"Any parselmouth," Feige told him.

"Do basilisks eat toads?" Shlomo asked next.

"I don't know much about basilisks," Feige said. "They're very rare."

"Are parselmouths immune to a basilisk's gaze?" Shlomo asked next.

"I don't think so," Feige told him. "In book two, Fawkes knocked out the basilisk's eyes so that Harry won't die from it."

"I guess we should take Fawkes with us," Shlomo said. "If we get Dumbledore involved, he'll bring Fawkes."

"Or else you could forget this crazy idea," I advised him. "Don't risk your life just to make friends with a dangerous snake."

"If we get the aurors to come with us," Shlomo suggested, "We could all stay safe."

"None of the aurors are parselmouths," Feige told him.

"Which auror became minister of magic after the war?" Shlomo asked.

"Kinglsey Shacklebolt," Feige told him. "He's not a parselmouth."

"Maybe he could become our defense teacher," Shlomo continued. "Then he and Professor Mcgonagall can also help us with the basilisk."

"Why would he want to leave a good job as an auror to teach at Hogwarts?" Feige questioned.

"We still need a teacher," Shlomo reasoned. "The aurors are qualified and should step in, especially with a basilisk on the loose. Do you think the snake would listen if Harry tells it not to look at anyone?"

"I hope so," Feige said.

"I think we should have some dead rats, mice, and toads ready when we go down to the chamber," Shlomo suggested. "This way we can offer the basilisk a peace offering before it could hurt anyone. Hagrid might know about Basilisks. Also, aren't we related to Newt Scamander?"

"I think so," Feige said. "According the Harry Potter wiki, we're distantly related."

"Maybe he could come with us," Shlomo suggested.

"I could write to him after yom tov," Feige agreed.

"How about you let the experts take care of it?" I told them.

"We'll see what Newt says," Feige tried to reassure me. "He'll probably handle most of it, but we need Harry's parselmouth abilities, and Goldstein knowledge about horcruxes."

I wondered what the chances were that Feige would forget about it by the time yom tov was over.


	16. Chapter 16

October 1991

Yisrael's point of view

Simchas Torah is always fun, but this year, it was different. There was still singing and dancing in shul, but I couldn't dance with Zaidy or any of my uncles. I was able to dance with Tatti and Shlomo. In New York, everyone knows me already, so they love me for who I am. Here, people look at me strange when I scream. I don't know if people in New York are more accepting or if people in 2018 know more about autism.

When yom tov was over, Mommy wrote a letter and asked Shlomo to mail it at Hogwarts. I wondered why Mommy couldn't mail it here. Maybe she was scared she would forget.

I wasn't too excited to go back to school the next day. Back in New York, I was in an ABA program, so as long as I did my work, I got potato chips. Here, I don't get anything for doing my work. When the teacher teaches the whole class, I don't pay attention. I see no reason to. My teacher works with me on reading every day. She tests me on all the letter sounds. Even though I know them, I can't always say them right. My speech therapist tries to teach me to say the sounds correctly. I don't like when she touches my face. At least, occupational therapy is fun.

Today, I kept thinking about the letter that Mommy wrote. On yom tov, everyone was talking about a snake named basilisk. I wondered what was special about that snake and why Harry could talk to it.

After supper, we had surprise visitors. I have cousins named Newt and Tina. I never knew that before. They came over because Mommy sent them a letter about the basilisk. They talked about how Hogwarts has no Defense Against Dark Arts teacher. Tina agreed that she could easily do the job.

"You teaching at Hogwarts won't get me in to see the magnificent beast," Newt pointed out.

"Maybe you could be an assistant teacher or co-teacher," Mommy suggested. "I honestly don't understand how Hogwarts has one teacher for each subject when all seven years have to have each subject at least twice a week and there are four houses for each year."

"I don't know if I'm qualified," Newt argued.

"Maybe not for the whole defense," Mommy said, "But isn't part of Defense Against Dark Arts learning about different creatures you may come across? Boggarts, dementors, hinkypunks, red caps, grindylow, werewolves, I don't know, you're the magical one, not me, but surely there are enough creatures to justify you teaching your wife's class once a week."

"I like the way your mind works," Newt commented.

"How are we related again?" Tina asked.

"Very distantly," Mommy said, handing her the Goldstein Family History book. "I never had the patience to read the whole thing, but if you want to, you're welcome to trace our families."

"Do you mind if I borrow this?" Tina asked. "I'll return it as soon as I'm done with it."

"No problem," Mommy said. "The only thing I can think of that I would use it for is to find others who can help us."

"What exactly do you want from the basilisk?" Newt asked.

"Ideally, it would be great if he would give a sample of his venom," Mommy told him.

"Why would you want that?" Tina asked suspiciously.

"If I tell you, can you agree to keep it quiet?" Mommy asked. "If the wrong people find out, there could be problems."

"We could keep secrets," Tina said.

"Voldemort made six horcruxes," Mommy told them.

"He what?!" Tina exclaimed. "It's not enough to split your soul once; he did it six times?! Is he insane?"

"Obviously," Mommy told her.

"So we get the basilisk to give us some venom," Tina said. "How do we do that?"

"My son Shlomo is a first year Ravenclaw," Mommy told them. "He has a friend Harry who is a first year Gryffindor. Harry is a parselmouth. If you find a way to protect them from the basilisk's eyes, Harry could translate."

"We would probably need to wear very dark glasses," Newt said.

"Would that be enough?" Tatti asked.

"I hope so," Newt said. "Harry will tell the basilisk not to look at us, and we'll do our best not to meet its eyes."

"Are you sure that's enough?" Tatti asked.

"It should be," Newt said.

"First, we have to get the job," Tina pointed out.

"Considering that it's October and there is still no teacher, I'm sure Dumbledore would be happy to give you the job," Mommy pointed out.

"I'll write him as soon as we get home," Tina agreed. "With any luck, on Monday, we'll have the job."

When Shlomo came home for Shabbos, he mentioned that Defense classes are starting on Monday. He was thrilled when he heard who his teachers will be.

"Should I tell Harry about the basilisk yet?" he wanted to know.

"Why don't you wait until your new professors are ready?" Mommy suggested.

Now that there's no more yom tov, I'm in school every day. Shlomo only comes home for Shabbos now. At least, I get to come home every day.

The next Shabbos, Shlomo told us that tomorrow, he's going into the chamber with Harry and both Professor Scamanders.

"It really doesn't sound safe," Tatti told him.

"I'll have two professors with me," Shlomo argued. "They won't let anything bad happen."

I found out that I'm ten-years-old according to my Hebrew birthday when we had my birthday cake for dessert.

When Shlomo came home the next Shabbos, he said that they've been feeding the basilisk every day. Harry explained that Shlomo and both professors were his friends. The basilisk expressed concern that he was surrounded by half bloods and questioned that Harry is really Slytherin's heir, but Harry said that if he speaks parseltongue, he must be an heir. They didn't get around to asking for venom yet.

The next week, Shlomo said that Newt is trying to talk parseltongue too. He repeats whatever he hears Harry and the basilisk say to each other. They both find it very amusing.

Shlomo was concerned about the Halloween feast. Mommy suggested that he ask the house elf to bring his food to the dorm so he won't have to participate in a not Jewish holiday. Tatti said that he can't believe we survived four months in England.


	17. Chapter 17

November 1991

Shlomo's point of view

As usual, Professors Scamander, Harry and I were going to the chamber of secrets to meet with the basilisk. We were a bit surprised when outside of the bathroom, we met Professor Snape.

"Good evening," he said. "I noticed the four of you are often together. Is there a problem that Goldstein and Potter need constant escorts?"

"Which Goldstein do you mean?" Tina asked cheekily.

"I believe there is only one Goldstein in the school," Snape sniffed.

"Actually, my maiden name is Goldstein," Tina told him.

"Even if you are related to a student, don't you think it's a bit much to be with him and his friend every evening?" Snape questioned.

"There's a project I'm working on," Newt said, "And these two have been very helpful."

"Maybe you should include some Slytherin students in your projects," Snape suggested.

"I'll keep that in mind for my next project," Newt agreed.

"We actually discussed a possible project that Draco would be helpful for," I lied. "We need to finish this one before we could start the next one though."

"And why do you always bring dead animals with you?" Snape asked.

"There is a beast we are studying," Newt told him. "We need to feed it every day, and we study its reactions."

"What is the nature of this beast?" Snape asked.

"I prefer to keep it quiet until it's in the publishing stages," Newt told him.

"Is the headmaster aware of what you are doing?" Snape wanted to know.

"The beast was already in the school before I was hired," Newt said. "I'm sure Dumbledore would approve if he knew what we were doing."

"Well, don't let me stop you," Snape said. "Continue to where you are going."

We waited for him to move, but he didn't. Finally, Tina opened the bathroom door and called out, "Myrtle, are you in here?"

That was when Snape walked away.

"Quickly," Newt told us. "We don't have much time if Snape is getting Professor Dumbledore."

Newt hissed open and we went into the chamber. Harry called the basilisk and we left its food before joining it in its room.

"Today we should ask for the venom," Newt said. "Once Dumbledore finds out what I'm doing, I may be out of a job."

Harry and the basilisk hissed for a few minutes before we heard footsteps in the chamber.

"Don't come in without dark glasses," Newt called to whoever was coming. "I have a few extra pairs."

He went back to the outer room and came back in with Dumbledore and Snape.

"So this is the chamber of secrets," Dumbledore said.

Harry and the basilisk continued hissing at each other.

"Potter is a parselmouth?" Snape asked. "How is that possible?"

"I found out he was a parselmouth right after I moved here," I said. "Harry's cousin and the cousin's friend tried beating me up, but I fought back, so Harry's Aunt Petunia called the police. My mother told the police officer that boys fight all the time and are somehow best friends despite beating each other up, and Dudley said that he beats Harry up."

"I could see why," Snape commented.

"My mother sarcastically told him that he was being so nice giving Harry the day off and picking on me instead, and Dudley said that Harry is still locked in the cupboard as a punishment for talking to a snake," I continued.

"Did you have to say that?" Harry complained.

"I'm just explaining how I know," I said. "I wouldn't tell any other students about that, but professors could be trusted with this type of information."

"Okay, so Potter can talk to snakes," Snape continued, "But why do you keep visiting a basilisk?"

"I was wondering that too," Dumbledore commented.

"Voldemort divided his soul into seven pieces," I explained. "In order for him to be killed, all the pieces need to be destroyed. We were befriending the basilisk in order to hopefully get some venom to use on all the pieces."

"What makes you think that?" Snape asked suspiciously.

"My great aunt went to school with Voldemort, back when he was called Tom Riddle," I told him. "She's the one who told us where the basilisk is so we can get some venom."

"And have you?" Dumbledore asked.

"Harry and the basilisk were discussing it now," Newt told them. "As nobody else here speaks their language, I don't know what they agreed to."

"We're discussing how it could be done," Harry offered.

"Just give it a bottle to bite," I suggested.

"It's not that simple," Newt told me. "We need the venom inside the bottle and we can't touch the actual venom."

"If the basilisk bites the inside of a bottle before we seal it, we could have some venom," Dumbledore said. "The question is would he do it?"

Harry translated for the basilisk, and we all waited for the answer.

"He prefers to bite something that tastes good," Harry finally told us.

"That can be arranged," Dumbledore said.

He waved his wand and conjured a big jar with little pieces of different animals inside.

"I'll shrink it after we're done," Dumbledore said.

"There's still the matter that two students broke serious rules," Snape pointed out.

"As they were in the care of professors the whole time, I don't think they did anything wrong," Dumbledore disagreed. "They were doing what they were told."

"It looks like we have enough venom," Newt pointed out.

He hissed thank you to the basilisk.

"Are you also a parselmouth?" Snape asked suspiciously.

"I wish I was," Newt said. "I pay attention to Harry's conversations so I can pick up some words."

He handed Harry a sheet of paper.

"You need to sing this in Parseltongue so the basilisk will go back to sleep," he told him.

"I'm not really a singer," Harry said.

"Just do your best," Newt said. "I wrote down the words I already know so I can join you for those parts."

It was strange to hear someone trying to hiss a song, but it seemed to do the trick as the basilisk went back to sleep.

"All of you come to my office so we could discuss this," Dumbledore said as we were leaving the chamber.

I wondered if we were in trouble. Once we were all sitting, Dumbledore began.

"You do realize this is very dark magic we were talking about," he said seriously. "It's something that nobody should ever be talking about in any situation."

"The only reason we know about it is because we need to able to destroy Voldemort when he comes back," I pointed out.

"I understand," Dumbledore said, "but it's not something that should be publicized. I don't know why Regina told you instead of dealing with it herself."

"She knew what happened to Regulus," I said. "She wanted to live longer than that."

"Are you referring to Regulus Black?" Snape asked me.

"Yes," I said. "He was the first one to discover what Voldemort was doing. He died trying to destroy one soul fragment. He left a letter which my aunt found. It explained about the horcruxes, but we needed a safer way to destroy them."

"How did the dark lord do that six times?" Snape wondered.

"He killed more than enough people for it," Dumbledore pointed out. "The question is where are all the horcruxes and how much time do we have to destroy them?"

"My mother knows where they are," I told her. "Aunt Regina wrote it down and my mother has the book she wrote it in."

"I wonder if that's the same book I borrowed from your mother," Tina said. "I never finished it so I don't know what else is in it."

Dumbledore made Harry and me promise not to tell anyone about the horcruxes and said he will meet with my parents to discuss the next step.


	18. Chapter 18

November 1991

Dovid's point of view

I was surprised when I heard the doorbell while Feige was still cleaning up supper. I was watching music videos with Yisrael and was reluctant to leave him with my phone when I went to the door. I was even more surprised when I saw who was at the door.

"Hello, Professor," I said to Professor Dumbledore.

"Hi cousins," I said to the Scamanders.

I didn't know who the last man was, but I called Feige to the door. Not surprisingly, Yisrael went with her.

"Hello," Feige greeted everyone. "Should I assume that if four professors show up at my door that Shlomo is in trouble?"

"He's fine," Professor Dumbledore reassured us. "Although I question your wisdom in letting him know about horcruxes at his age."

"Why don't you come in and sit down?" Feige said diplomatically.

I wondered if it was intentional or not that Professor Dumbledore and the unfamiliar man took the recliners while the four who are somehow related ended up on the couch. (I'm still not satisfied that we're related to Newt and Tina, but Feige says that we can't argue with Harry Potter wiki.)

"I question your wisdom in leaving a baby unattended on a doorstep," I retorted once we were all settled.

"That was a long time ago," Professor Dumbledore said, "And it has nothing to do with the situation we are discussing."

"What are you going to do?" I challenged. "Wipe our memories like you did to the police officer?"

"I have my reasons for keeping Harry with his relatives," Dumbledore said. "I'm here to discuss the horcruxes."

"I'm not so sure his relatives understand your reasoning," I said, not willing to let it go.

"Right now, for everyone's safety, I think it's best to discuss the horcruxes," Dumbledore said again. "We could discuss Harry's living situation another time."

"Do you have a means of destroying the horcruxes?" Feige asked curiously.

Newt held up a jar with some liquid.

"How do you plan on getting the venom into the horcrux?" Feige asked.

"I'm interested in hearing your ideas," Dumbledore said.

"A goblin made blade," Feige suggested.

"Great idea," Dumbledore approved. "I'll be right back."

He disappeared without much of a warning, leaving me gaping at his absence.

"That's all?" I asked Feige. "You're just going to tell him where the horcruxes are without doing something about what he did to the Dursleys?"

"Do you realize where the horcruxes are?" Feige asked me.

"You know I never read the books," I reminded her.

"Regulus Black was the first to find one of the horcruxes," Feige said. "Once he figured out what Voldemort did, he decided to destroy the horcruxes, but due to the protection around the only one he found, it cost him his life. He wrote a note to Voldemort as he was dying which Aunt Regina found, explaining that he is giving the horcrux to his house elf to destroy."

"How does that help?" I asked. "What's a house elf going to do? Bring us food?"

"Do you know who Regulus Black's brother is?" I asked.

"I didn't know he had a brother," I told her.

"That's because you never listen when we talk to you," Feige said.

That's not really true. I listen when they say things that interest me, but until a few months ago, Harry Potter was just a fictional series that Feige and Shlomo talked about.

"Regulus has a brother named Sirius Black," Feige told me.

"So?" I asked.

"Do you know who he was friends with at Hogwarts?" Feige asked me.

"I don't want to be here with Black," the man on the recliner snarled.

"I can't say I blame you," Feige agreed. "He's going to very angry when he finds out that Harry was kept in a cupboard for ten years."

I understood Feige's logic. I still didn't know who that man was, but something about his attitude told me that he doesn't want to talk to us.

When Dumbledore returned with a dagger, Feige asked him where he got it.

"I borrowed it from Professor Flitwick," Dumbledore said.

"Did you tell him you're dipping it into basilisk venom?" Feige asked him.

"I see no need to tell him that," Dumbledore said.

"So you think there's nothing wrong with Filius using it, not knowing about the venom?" Tina was enraged. "Imagine if he uses it in a duel, thinking he could heal his opponent!"

"I prefer not to tell him about the horcruxes," Dumbledore admitted.

"So bring him here and I'll tell him," Feige told him.

"What exactly will you tell him?" Dumbledore asked suspiciously. "I don't want information about horcruxes to get into the wrong hands."

"Do you really not trust your professors?" I asked. "If you're concerned that any of them are doing something illegal, like the thief who got caught at Gringotts, why are they teaching my son?"

"I trust all Hogwarts professors," Dumbledore said indignantly. "But I am aware that some types of magic shouldn't be discussed."

"You need to explain to Professor Flitwick what you are planning on doing with his dagger," Feige said calmly. "Otherwise, you may have a death on your hands, and I'm sure you don't want to deal with the guilt."

"Very well," Professor Dumbledore said. "I will bring him here so we can explain it to him."

When Professor Dumbledore left again, I asked Feige who Professor Flitwick is.

"Shlomo's charms professor," Feige told me, "And in case you were wondering, the man on the recliner is Professor Snape, Shlomo's potions teacher. One day, maybe you will start listening when he talks."

"I do listen," I said, "I just don't always remember all these names."

When Professor Dumbledore came back with a tiny man, he used his wand to make another chair.

"Cool," I commented. "Could you do another one? This couch is pretty crowded."

Soon there was another armchair in the room, and I moved off the crowded couch. Dumbledore gave Feige a look as if to say that it's her job to speak.

"Are you okay with your dagger being dipped in basilisk venom?" Feige asked.

"A goblin made blade in basilisk venom?" Flitwick repeated. "That would be a very powerful weapon. What do you want to use it for?"

"Voldemort's still alive," Feige told him. "He split his soul into seven pieces and we need to destroy all the parts so that he can be destroyed."

"Oh my!" Flitwick said. "I can't imagine anyone being evil enough to do that! Of course you can use my dagger. If I can be of any other assistance, please let me know."

"There are lots of defenses around some of these pieces," Feige told him. "Regulus Black managed to get one of them, but it killed him before he could destroy it. I think that's the one we should deal with first since most of the defenses were already overcome, but I'm sure that when it's time to retrieve other pieces from their protections, we'll need all the help we can get."

"Do you know what he did with it?" Dumbledore asked eagerly.

"He gave it to his house elf do destroy," Feige told him.

"May I use your floo?" Dumbledore asked.

Feige took him upstairs, leaving me with all the professors.

"I feel like we should have parent teacher conference now," I said.

"Anthony's a great boy!" Professor Flitwick squeaked, "Although he prefers to go by Shlomo. When he pays attention, he asks such brilliant questions."

It wasn't long before Feige and Professor Dumbledore came back down, this time with an unfamiliar man who was introduced as Sirius Black. Yisrael ran up to him right away.

"Gog!" Yisrael laughed.

"It's not nice to call someone a dog," I reprimanded him.

Suddenly, there was a huge black dog in my living room, giving Yisrael rides on his back. I jumped back in fright, but Dumbledore looked amused. I noticed that Snape looked disgusted.

"Why don't you turn back now?" Dumbledore told the dog. "We have something serious to discuss."

The dog turned back into Sirius Black.

"Do you know how Regulus died?" Dumbledore asked Sirius.

"Voldemort had him killed," Sirius said. "He had cold feet and couldn't do what was expected of him."

"That's actually not true," Feige told him. "Regulus discovered that Voldemort made horcruxes. He went knowingly to his death in the hopes that the one horcrux he retrieved will be destroyed. As he was dying, he wrote a note explaining about the horcruxes, and called a house elf to take the horcrux and destroy it. Your brother was a hero, not a coward."

"I never knew," Sirius said softly. "I was so disappointed that he was a Slytherin like the rest of the family that I never realized that underneath, he was still the same brave brother I knew all along."

"Can you find out if the house elf destroyed the horcrux?" Dumbledore asked.

"Kreacher!" Sirius called.

A house elf appeared at Sirius's feet.

"Kreacher has to serve the blood traitor," the house elf said, "Even though he broke his mother's heart. Kreacher doesn't want to be with such filth, but Kreacher must do what he is told."

"Mrs. Goldstein just told me how Regulus died," Sirius told the elf.

"The muggle thinks she knows what happened to Master Regulus," Kreacher said, "But the muggle wouldn't have been able to reach the cave."

"No," Feige agreed, "but the muggle married a squib, and the squib has an aunt who made it to the cave and saw Regulus's note. Therefore, we want to know if you destroyed the locket."

Kreacher burst into tears.

"Kreacher tried!" he said earnestly. "Every day, Kreacher tries and Kreacher punishes himself and Kreacher tries again, but Kreacher cannot destroy it! Nothing works! Kreacher thinks that the locket needs to be opened, but Kreacher can not open it, no matter how much Kreacher punishes himself."

"We have a dagger that would work," Professor Flitwick said kindly.

"Kreacher will get the locket and see," Kreacher said, "but the half breed better know what he's talking about."

Kreacher disappeared. He reappeared a moment later holding a locket. He took the dagger and stabbed, but nothing happened.

"The half breed does not know how to destroy the locket," Kreacher said.

"I think you need a parselmouth to open the locket before you stab it," Feige told Kreacher. "But you need to be ready to stab it right away, because whatever is inside the locket may try to kill you first."

"Harry taught me some parseltongue," Newt said. "I can tell the locket to open when you are ready."

"Harry who?" Sirius asked. "Are you talking about my godson?"

"Is your godson the boy who was left on the Dursleys' doorstep ten years ago?" I asked.

"You didn't even bring him in?" Sirius asked. "What if something would have happened to him?"

"I made sure he was protected," Dumbledore said stiffly. "Are you ready to destroy the locket?"

"Kreacher is very ready," Kreacher said.

Newt hissed something and the locket opened. Kreacher stabbed it quickly. It screamed and turned black. Kreacher threw himself on the floor, crying happy tears.

"One down, five to go," Feige said cheerfully.

"I think we should continue another time," I said. "I'm sure Mr. Black wants to discuss his godson's future living arrangements."

Sirius looked shocked.

"Professor Dumbledore assured me that Harry is happy with his aunt and uncle," he said. "As much as I would love to have him, I don't want to upset him by taking him away."

"I'm sure Harry would miss his cupboard," I agreed. "That's what he lived in the last ten years. When we tried getting the police involved, Professor Dumbledore erased the police officer's memories."

"We will definitely be discussing it," Sirius agreed. "I want to meet Harry before Christmas break so he can decide for himself that he wants to go with me."

"Kreacher will help however he can," Kreacher said. "Kreacher is so happy to do Master Reggie's last wish."

"If I need your help, I'll call," Sirius said, "But as of now, I don't need anything."

Professor Dumbledore agreed we will meet next week to discuss the remaining horcruxes, and all of our unexpected company left.


	19. Chapter 19

November 1991

Feige's point of view

I felt so bad for Sirius after he left. All these years, he thought his brother was a coward; only now he found out that he was really a hero. He must feel so guilty for not reaching out to him before he died. He also must feel guilty about Harry's living situation. After all, if he wouldn't have gone after Peter, he could still have been involved in Harry's life. I wondered what Dumbledore and Sirius would agree to. I know about the blood wards, but Sirius doesn't so things may get ugly between them.

Overall, I liked magic a lot better when it didn't exist. Sure, I thought some parts of the Harry Potter books were sad, and I wondered why JK Rowling had to murder so many characters. But many books I read have characters die, and while it is sad, I know that it's fiction. It shouldn't be possible to get sucked into a fiction story the way my family did. Now I need to find out a way to prevent all the deaths that happened in the books.

The easiest way would be destroying all the horcruxes. Ravenclaw's diadem shouldn't be too hard to deal with. The resurrection stone will be harder as it almost killed Dumbledore. The diary might need to wait until next year unless the professors have a way of getting it from Malfoy now. I wondered if Sirius is able to get to Bellatrix's vault in Gringotts. On the one hand, there's no key; Hermione had to present her wand for identification. That makes it seem like only Bellatrix could access the vault. On the other hand, Mrs. Weasley and Bill were both able to access Harry's vault. Maybe Gringotts isn't as secure as people think.

I was still sitting there wringing my hands when Dovid came back in the room.

"Why aren't you putting Yisrael to bed?" he asked.

"I was thinking about the horcruxes," I told him.

"If you never would have started with fanfictions, we wouldn't be in this mess," Dovid said.

"I only started because Shlomo asked me to," I pointed out.

"You don't have to listen to him," Dovid commented.

"I like it," I said.

"You should do writing that pays," Dovid said for what must have been the hundredth time.

"I can't deal with rejection," I told him. "Even with fanfiction, I could write nineteen chapters and only have one review, eight followers, and six favorites despite having 585 views, but since I'm really writing for Shlomo, I can try not to take it personally. If I send a story to a publisher and they don't like it, that's it. Nobody else will ever get a chance to see for themselves if they like it. Besides, it's too hard to think of all new characters and plots."

As I put Yisrael to bed, I thought about what the next week's meeting would be like.

Shlomo's birthday was coming up. We already celebrated Yisrael's Hebrew and English birthday. Shlomo's Hebrew birthday will be on Wednesday and his English birthday is two weeks later. I wondered how he would explain having two birthdays to his not Jewish classmates. I saw no reason not to send him a birthday treat for each birthday.

On Wednesday morning, I sent birthday muffins with Shlomo's breakfast. I kept one each for me, Dovid and Yisrael, but sent the rest of the batch so he could share with his friends. I figured that I'll wait until his English birthday to send a proper cake.

The next week, we had our next horcrux meeting. Once again, my living room was crowded with five professors, Sirius, me, Dovid, andYisrael.

"Do you know where any of the other horcruxes are?" Professor Dumbledore asked.

"There's one at Hogwarts," I said helpfully.

"Why are we wasting time coming to your house if the horcrux is in Hogwarts?" Snape grumbled.

"I take it you know exactly where in Hogwarts to look?" I challenged.

"If you tell me where, I can find it without wasting my time here," he pointed out.

"Do you know where the room of requirement is?" I asked.

Everyone who attended (or teaches in) Hogwarts shook their heads.

"It's on the seventh floor," I told them, "Right opposite a picture of trolls learning to dance."

"You mean that tiny closet that we hid in once?" Sirius said. "We never found it again."

"The way to find it is to walk past three times thinking about what you want to find in it," I explained. "If you are thinking that you need the bathroom, it will turn into a bathroom. If you need a place to hide, that's what it turns into. If you need a place to study, you'll get that too, including the books you need. One of its main uses is as a junk room. House elves use it to get rid of things that were left behind, and Voldemort found it in that form and left a horcrux in there."

"That room sounds fascinating," Professor Flitwick said. "I would love to study it. I wonder what the founders had in mind when they established that room."

"It's a perfect hiding place in times of war," I pointed out. "If Hogwarts is ever overrun by death eaters, students can hide there. It could probably open a secret passage to somewhere in Hogsmeade."

"I can't believe we never found it!" Sirius said. "My friends and I thought we explored the whole castle! How did we miss that room?"

"So if the room is filled with junk, how do we find the horcrux?" Snape asked.

"I suppose when you walk past, you can have in mind that you need to find the horcrux," I suggested. "If that doesn't work, you could have in mind that you need to find Ravenclaw's Diadem."

"Ravenclaw's Diadem?" Flitwick asked. "Are you sure?"

"That locket we destroyed last week was Slytherin's," Dumbledore commented. "Did he purposely seek out the founders' heirlooms?"

"Another one is Hufflepuff's cup," I told them. "He couldn't find anything belonging to Gryffindor."

"And what happens if we can't get Ravenclaw's diadem that way?" Snape asked.

"You ask for the room of hidden things," I told them. "That will definitely work, but it means you'll have to go through a thousand years worth of junk to find it."

"I would love to see everything in the room," Dumbledore said, "But if one of the first two approaches work, we can do it that way."

"Can you let me know when it's destroyed?" I asked. "It will be hard to sit here and wait."

"Why can't you come with us?" Sirius asked.

"I'm a muggle," I pointed out the obvious.

"I'll make sure to stop in on my way back," Sirius agreed.

"Thanks," I told him.

As expected, it was hard to wait. I put a video on for Yisrael in the playroom, while I waited.

A half hour later, Sirius returned, beaming.

"That room is incredible," he said with a grin. "I could just imagine the trouble I would have made if I knew about it as a student."

"Did you find it?" I asked.

"We found and destroyed it easily," Sirius told me. "We asked the room for the horcrux and nothing happened. When we asked for the diadem, it opened into the junk room, but right near where the diadem was so we found it quickly. I wonder if there's anything useful in there."

I thanked Sirius for coming, and he told me that Dumbledore said everyone will be meeting again next week. I wondered which horcrux we should deal with next.


	20. Chapter 20

November 1991

Yisrael's point of view

As much as I like the playroom in the England house, I still wish we were home. At home, I could go to Bubby's house or Bobbi's house whenever I want. I go to a school that knows what potato chips are and have ketchup flavored chips and potato sticks plus barbeque chips, sticks, and popcorn. England isn't measuring up food wise.

Mommy and Tatti talk to the professors every week. They're trying to get us back home so I can have ketchup chips and double stuffed Oreos. Two of the professors are supposed to be my cousins, Newt and Tina. One professor is the funny one with the long beard that Mommy and Tatti don't let me pull. One of them has ugly black hair that I don't want to touch, and one of them is tiny and has a squeaky voice. The dog man also comes every week.

This week, they are talking about a horcrux in a house. Mommy said that it's probably safer to just do fiendfyre on the whole house since the protections in place are very powerful. She told them that the house is an old shack on the outskirts of Little Hangleton.

The professors kept arguing that fiendfyre is dangerous. The one who argued the most was the one with the long beard. I don't like when people argue. I knew I had to stop it.

I usually don't look at people's eyes. I can tell what people are thinking about sometimes just from being near them, but I can't follow exact thoughts without looking in their eyes. I don't like looking at people's eyes. Eyes are the window to the soul; when I look at people's eyes, I see a lot more of them than I want to. However, looking at eyes does make it easier to follow and direct thoughts.

I looked at my mother's eyes first. I look at Mommy's eyes a lot. Her eyes aren't scary even though she does think too much. I saw a scary picture in her eyes. It showed the man with the beard wearing an ugly black ring and his whole hand turned black. He was unable to walk and looked like he might die.

I went to the beard man and looked in his eyes. His mind seemed better protected than my parents. I wondered it that was because of magic. I forced myself through, ignoring Tatti who kept telling me to leave Dumbledore alone. He was thinking that fire is bad and dangerous.

I showed him with my eyes what Mommy was thinking about. He gasped and held his head like I was giving him a headache.

"Your son is a very powerful legilimens," Dumbledore said.

"I'll take your word for it," Mommy said.

"We don't really have much choice of the matter, not knowing what it means," Tatti added.

"Speak for yourself!" Mommy told him. "If you would have read the Goldstein family history book, you would know that Queenie Goldstein is a very powerful legilimens."

"That's my sister," Tina said. "I guess it runs in the Goldstein family."

"Your son just presented an image in my mind of me touching the horcrux and dying a painful death as a curse spread through my body," Dumbledore said.

"That's why I think it's safer to use fiendfyre," Mommy said.

"I'm starting to agree that it may be safer," Dumbledore said.

He turned to one of the men and asked, "Severus, how are you with fiendfrye?"

"I know how to use it," he said.

"Figures," Sirius snorted.

"Everything has its uses," Mommy reprimanded him. "Don't you think it's better to use fiendfyre than to cause a death?"

"I suppose," Sirius said, "But I never had a need for it."

"Different people have different needs," Mommy commented.

"And Filius," Dumbledore said to the small man, "You know how to control it if necessary?"

"I know the theory," Flitwick squeaked. "I should be able to keep it from going out of hand."

"We will return," Professor Dumbledore said, "In order to show Yisrael that we are still alive and were successful."

I watched Ari Goldwag videos while waiting. I was happy to see that everyone came back.

"We were successful," Dumbledore said, "Although I almost lost myself and tried to handle the horcrux. Luckily, Severus was able to stop me."

"That's because I was warned," Snape said, looking at me appraisingly.

I didn't look at his eyes. His mind also seemed protected, and I didn't want to risk it.

"What's next?" Sirius asked.

"I should probably make Shlomo's birthday cake tonight," Mommy said.

"We're not interested in your son's birthday," Snape growled. "The mutt was asking about the horcruxes."

"As I never met Lucius Malfoy," Mommy said, "I don't know how he would react if he would find out that he has a horcrux in his house. He may decide to destroy it to avoid Voldemort coming back, or he may decide that if he's the one to bring Voldemort back, he's going to be rewarded. It could be that he believes Voldemort is dead, but once he knows about the horcruxes, he'll try to bring him back."

"He might fear retribution for claiming to be under the imperious curse," Snape offered. "If that's the case, he would want all horcruxes to be destroyed and the master soul too."

"Not necessarily," Dumbledore said. "If he would know that he has a portion of his master's soul in his hands, he may treat it with reverence."

"Lucius is a coward," Sirius disagreed. "He wouldn't want Voldemort to come back because then he would be punished for betraying him."

"I remember Malfoy from when he was at Hogwarts," Flitwick added. "I don't think he would work too hard to find you-know-who."

"I don't know the man," Newt said, "But I can't imagine any death eater purposely destroying a piece of you-know-who's soul."

"Are we talking about Draco Malfoy's father?" Tina asked. "Because that boy thinks very highly of his father and seems to receive a lot of love. I don't think a loving father would risk anything that would put his son in danger and that includes bringing you-know-who back."

"I'll talk to Lucius," Snape volunteered. "I'll let you know what he says when we meet again next week."


	21. Chapter 21

November 20, 1991

Shlomo's point of view

It's a good thing I go home every Shabbos, otherwise I wouldn't know what's going on. I know that the first two horcruxes were destroyed and there are plans to destroy the third one this week. I asked Professor Scamander about it after class on my birthday.

"How was your birthday cake?" she asked.

"My house mates ate it so fast," I told her. "I'm lucky I cut myself the first piece or I probably wouldn't have gotten any."

"Professor Dumbledore doesn't want me discussing you know whats with students," she said.

"My parents will tell me over Shabbos anyway," I pointed out. "They already said that they're going to suggest fiendfyre for the stone in the Gaunt shack."

"It worked, and it was destroyed," Tina told me. "That's all that matters."

I knew I would have to wait until Shabbos to get an update.

People were still making a big deal over Harry winning the quidditch match. I missed the game of course, and wizards don't have video cameras. When I asked Michael and Terry about it, they suggested omnioculars. As neither of them owned a pair, it didn't help me.

Harry and Ron were supposed to be friends with Hermione by now, but I didn't see any way of that happening. I felt a little bad that I caused the golden trio not to occur. I tried to think of ways of fixing it and decided that the best bet was with homework.

After dinner, I asked Harry in front of Hermione how he's doing with homework.

"It's tough," he admitted. "I fell behind because of quidditch practice."

"If you meet me at the library, maybe we could do some together," I offered.

I turned to Ron.

"Do you want to join us?" I offered.

"I don't really want to," he confessed, "But I guess I should. I'm also falling behind in homework."

"It's too bad we can't get someone good at Charms to help us," I said. "My house mates are all busy with their own work and don't have time to help me, but I'm not that good with Charms. Is anyone in your house good at it?"

I saw Ron and Harry both look at Hermione and look away.

"I could ask her," I offered.

"Hermione," I called.

"I'm not letting you copy my homework," she said defensively.

"Of course not!" I agreed. "That would be cheating. Would you have time to explain some of the theory to us tonight in the library? Ron and Harry seem to think that you're good at Charms."

She seemed pleased to be noticed even though Ron and Harry both groaned.

Hermione wasn't really a bad teacher. She repeated Flitwick's words exactly but was able to answer questions when asked.

"I wish I had your memory," I told her.

"You must be smart if you're in Ravenclaw," she responded.

"Not necessarily," I told her. "The hat was ready to put me in Ravenclaw because I'm a Goldstein. I insisted on a proper sorting instead of going by family, so it said that since I was runner up in the school science fair and won a poetry contest, I must be a Ravenclaw. Being able to write and do science experiments doesn't help with Charms."

"Being a good writer helps with the essay writing," Hermione argued.

"It does," I agreed, "But I need to know what to write in the essay first before I could write it."

"You could also view your charm work as a science experiment," she continued.

"I do," I told her, "and I do fine with the actual work, I just don't understand the theory sometimes, probably since I don't listen when Flitwick talks."

We completed our essays and Hermione read them over.

"Why do you write with a sharpie?" she asked.

"A quill is too hard to write with," I said.

"That's a brilliant idea," Harry agreed. "Could I borrow a sharpie for my next assignment?"

I gave him and Ron one each and offered one to Hermione.

"I'll write with a quill like a proper witch," she said, "But I do think it's a good idea. I don't know why the magical world doesn't use muggle pens and paper."

"They can't admit that the muggle world has something that they don't," Ron explained. "Can you picture Malfoy using a muggle invention?"

"When he said he doesn't eat muggle food," I remembered, "I was tempted to ask him if dragon eggs taste as good as chicken eggs."

"Why didn't you?" Ron asked.

"I saw no need to make a bad situation worse," I explained.

"Too bad you can't influence your friends to do the same," Hermione commented.

"It would be easier for you to," I told her. "You're in their house."

"They don't listen to me," she complained.

"Actions speak louder than words," I reminded her.

"What action can I take when they're making trouble? Tell on them?" Hermione asked.

"Oy, we're right here," Ron pointed out.

"Nobody likes a tattletale," I told her. "Just come up with good ideas to keep them busy and out of trouble."

"Maybe we should study together more often," Hermione offered.

"Sounds good to me," I agreed.

"I guess we can manage that," Ron agreed, "but it doesn't mean we're best friends or anything."

"Really?" I asked. "And all this time I thought you were marrying her."

Harry laughed at the expressions on Ron's and Hermione's faces.

"Maybe you want to marry her," Harry offered.

"I'm going to marry a Jewish muggle after I go back to New York," I reminded him.

"Will you be able to go back?" Harry asked.

"I'm hoping that after I graduate I could go back," I said. "Maybe even before if we manage to convince Giselle and Jonathan that we make too much trouble here."

"You're also a trouble maker?" Hermione asked.

"Definitely not," I told her. "My magical cousins like to observe, take notes, draw up theories, and do nothing to interfere. That's not the way my family does things. The British Goldsteins weren't too happy that my brother made the news by getting Sirius Black out of Azkaban."

"But they wouldn't want an innocent man locked up," Hermione said.

"It doesn't concern them," I told her. "They only care about themselves. If we continue to make trouble, maybe they'll let us go back."

"Why should they have any say in it?" Hermione wanted to know.

"It's a long sad story," I told her. "I have to get back to my dorm, but maybe Harry can tell you."

"Oh, no!" Hermione gasped. "It's almost curfew! We better hurry!"

My goal wasn't accomplished yet, but at least I took a step in the right direction.


	22. Chapter 22

November 21, 1991

Yisrael's point of view

I don't know why I didn't get any of Shlomo's birthday cake yesterday. Mommy sent the whole cake to Shlomo's school.

When I got to school, Mommy left. That's when I knew I could make trouble. It's hard to make trouble when Mommy is there.

My teacher told me to put my things away, line up, and go to the table. I sat down at the table. She told me to put my things away first. I don't know why she told me to sit down if I didn't put my things away yet.

We had circle time first. I sat down when the teacher said we should sit. I started touching the instruments while I was waiting for my classmates. My teacher told me not to touch.

We played Ring Around the Rosy. That's a game where we walk in a circle and fall down. It's easy and fun. After that, we played Duck-Duck Goose. I'm not really sure how to play that game. I just know that when the teachers say "Run Yisrael!" I'm supposed to run and when they say to sit down, I need to sit. Sometimes, the teacher takes my hand and walks around the circle with me. Teachers are strange.

We did Hokey Pokey next. That's a silly song, but it's not too hard. After that, we finally got to use the instruments. I played the sticks and a maraca. I like maracas. They make noise when you shake them, just like Zaidy's medicines.

After that, we did Head, Shoulders, knees and toes. I can't keep up with that song, but it was fun to watch.

My teacher asked me some questions, but I didn't answer. I don't know why teachers think I could talk. Sometimes, I copied what other kids are doing. This way none of the teachers would ask me anything. I also tried to look at the teacher so that she won't think I'm not paying attention.

When it was time for English, a teacher sat with me. My teachers finally realized that I'm not ready to read, so they try to get me to talk instead.

My teacher held up a cracker. I said "cracker" with my ipad so that she would give it to me and I can eat it. For some reason, my teachers call my ipad a computer or a pc. She held up a book, which she gave to me after I said book with my ipad. I didn't eat it this time. We're not supposed to eat books, only turn the pages. Even if a page falls out, I get in trouble if I eat it. She showed me a picture of Mommy, so I said "Mommy". She rang a bell, so I turned to it and imitated the noise. I did the same thing when she squeaked a toy. She let me play with the toy after. When I saw her holding headphone, I said "Music" with my ipad and she let me listen to a song. She held up a slinky, but I didn't say anything. Those aren't so much fun. She kept trying to get me to say slinky, but eventually gave up and tried a ball instead. It's important to show teachers that I'm the boss.

Sure enough, when I wouldn't say ball, my teacher took me outside. She is so determined to get me to talk, that she wouldn't let me on the slide unless I say slide. Since I didn't say it, she made me go back inside. She held up bubbles. That's easier to say and more fun, so I said it with my ipad and she blew bubbles. She showed me a picture of a cat. I didn't say anything. Once they know you can talk, they expect the world from you. My teacher told me it's a cat, but when I didn't repeat it, she tried touching my mouth to get me to say it. I don't like when people touch my mouth, so I said something. She accepted it even though it wasn't cat. She showed me a picture of Tatti next. That was easy, so I said Tatti. She showed me a phone. I have phone on my i-pad so I said it with my ipad. She held up a shoe and I found that on my i-pad too. Hat isn't on my i-pad, so I didn't say anything when she showed me a picture of a hat. She tried to get me to say it with my mouth instead, but I didn't. When she tried touching my mouth, I said "hot". This way, she knows I'm trying. I found spoon, cup, and car on my i-pad, but couldn't say bed when shown a picture of it. I tried standing up so I could go home and show my bed, but my teacher told me to sit down, so I sat back down.

My teacher decided to stop trying to make me talk. She still used her pictures, but this time she showed me a few pictures and told me what to point to. I found Tatti, ball, Elmo, and Mommy very easily. She didn't let me eat any pictures.

I was happy when English was over and it was time for a break. My blanket was at home, so I couldn't sleep. There aren't any stuffed animals or dolls in my classroom, so I had to pull my teacher's hair instead. Teachers don't like when I do that. I played with keys and put them in my mouth. Keys are fun. They make noise when you shake them. I had some water from a cup. After that, I kicked a ball.

We had social class next. I don't really know what we were doing, but I smiled and looked at people so that they won't pay extra attention to me.

We had history next. I don't know or care what history is so I sat down on a beanbag and ignored my class. My teachers know that I have to do that sometimes.

I was happy to eat lunch. I always like to eat, so that's not surprising. I ate my grilled cheese sandwich, cottage cheese, and cookies.

After lunch, we had another break. First I played with rings. When I finished with them, I kicked a ball. After that, I ate some blocks.

After the break, we had math. My teacher tried teaching me to count. I could say the next number when she starts, but I only say one number at a time. She always repeats what I say so I can say the next number. She wanted me to put blocks in size order, but I ate them instead. She helped me by doing it with me. She asked me silly questions like "Where are two boats?" I don't care how many boats are in each row. They're all boats. My teacher made me point to the right answer. I might as well not even be here, just leave my hand so she can use it to point. When my teacher saw that I didn't care about numbers, she took out cookies. I like cookies so I asked for cookie. She said, "Do you want one or two?" I wanted both, so she made me say two to get two. She kept making me practice saying, "I want two cookies," before giving me two cookies. If I ask for cookies with my iPad, I only get one, so I kept doing what she wanted. I think I understood one and two finally.

I matched numbers very easily. That's the easy part. If things look the same, they go together. My teacher tried asking me questions with one and two again, but I really don't care how many shoes I have. She wouldn't get out of my face until I answered correctly, so I managed to say something every time she asked. When she asked me to show her two fingers, I showed all my fingers. She bent three of them down so that I'm only holding up two.

After that, she started asking me questions with one, two and three. I don't know why she doesn't give up. I did not find 3 flowers or the picture with two cars. She kept making me do it by taking my hand, so eventually; I started doing it hoping she will leave me alone.

She didn't leave me alone. Instead, she started with four. She asked me to give her four cars. After I did, she asked for two cars. Since she wasn't happy with the four cars, I gave her all the cars.

She kept asking me how many of different things there are. I don't know and I don't care. Eventually, she gave up since it was time for art.

I watched everyone very carefully during art. I hoped that if I do a good job watching, my teacher would leave me alone, but I didn't have such luck. She tried to get me to use a pincer grasp. I didn't care. She gave me something to color with. I put it in my mouth, so she made me sit by the toys instead.

I like toys more than art. I did a puzzle, but tried eating the pieces. I also built with Lego. I played with bowls, cups, and plates since they were left in my reach.

My teacher decided to do some matching with me since I can't handle art. I matched hats, balls, trains, and dolls. She asked me to sort bears by color, which I did. I played with farm animals but they were confiscated after I bit the head off the horse. I built with Lego again before playing with a train and doing Mr. Potato Head.

After I ate Mr. Potato Head's eyes, I had to do some more matching. I matched dogs, cars, shoes, swimming pools and trucks. Since I did a good job, I got to play with a tea set. After that, I had to go back to art. The crayon I ate when I was back at the art table was really yummy so I got to do some more matching.

After I matched animals, I had to go back to art. Glue also tastes good. It feels so sticky and looks like chap stick. My teacher took away my glue and told me to color the balloon red. I took a big bite of the yummy red crayon.

I got to build with blocks until art was over. I built a house and a tower. It's more fun to play with toys than to do art, so I was happy that I ate my crayon.

We had our good-bye circle after art, and Mommy took me home. I wondered if the crayons at Hogwarts also taste good.


	23. Chapter 23

November 1991

Dovid's point of view

I had to remind Mr. Dursley that I'm leaving early every Friday. Even though I left early the last two weeks, he still made his usual comment.

"Your relatives must have arranged this for you," he said, "Because there's no way I would agree to let an employee leave at three o'clock every Friday in the winter without freakish things going on."

"It gets dark earlier here than in New York," I pointed out. "In New York, the earliest Shabbos starts at 4:10. Here we have weeks when Shabbos starts around 3:30."

"Still, you're relatives got you the job," he complained.

"You know they did," I agreed, "as I never would have chosen to leave my New York job and come here."

"Do you hear much from your son about the freak school?" he wanted to know.

"Your nephew is some sports star," I told him. "My son can't participate as they have all their games on Saturday. Besides, he likes the real sports like football, baseball, and basketball. He doesn't believe in playing games on broomsticks."

Actually, Shlomo did horrible in flying class. He was too scared to get too far off the ground.

"I don't blame him," Mr. Dursley said, "That's not a natural way to play. At least you managed to raise your kid to be normal despite his abnormalities."

It was nice to have Shlomo home for Shabbos. He mentioned that he tried to get Harry and Ron to become friends with Hermione. I don't know why he bothered. It doesn't concern him. He was horrified when after Hermione found out our made up reason for being here, she tried to hug him.

As nice as it was to have Shlomo home, it was even nicer when he went back to school. Back in New York, he used to pester me on Sundays since he was bored. When he's not home, he can't bug me.

On Monday night, the professors came again.

"Are you taking custody of Harry?" I asked his godfather.

"Professor Dumbledore said it's not safe," he sighed, "but I will be taking him for Christmas and for weekends in the summer. I will also visit him on weekdays in the summer and sometimes take him out, but he needs to sleep at his relatives."

"Did you clear that with his relatives?" I asked suspiciously.

"What for?" Sirius asked. "It makes it easier for them. Besides, they don't deserve to know."

"You do realize that they're petrified of magic," I pointed out.

"Yeah," Sirius said with a grin. "I'm going to have so much fun with them."

"You will not use magic on them," Dumbledore said firmly. "Now let's get back to the matter on hand."

He turned to Snape.

"What did Lucius say?" he asked.

"He agreed that he doesn't want the dark lord returning," Snape told us, "but he doesn't want to destroy the diary until all other horcruxes are destroyed. He's scared that if the dark lord returns and finds out what he did, he will be in trouble."

"Well, the other horcrux is in Bellatrix Lestrange's vault," Feige pointed out. "Who has access to it?"

"Aren't there two more?" Flitwick asked.

"The last one is the most complicated," Feige told him. "That has to be destroyed last."

"Lucius believes that Narcissa has access to her sister's vault," Snape added. "But he doesn't want any involvement unless those are the only two horcruxes left."

"So tell him those are the last two," I said, annoyed that Snape didn't think of it himself.

"But there's still one more," Flitwick protested.

"But it's in a living person," Feige finally told them.

The looks of shock on everyone's faces were priceless. The only one who didn't seem surprised was Dumbledore.

"Surely you're not suggesting that we kill Harry," Dumbledore confirmed.

"Of course not," Feige told him. "Once the other two are destroyed, we need some former death eaters to bring Voldemort back. There's some sort of potion made with a bone from a father, flesh from a servant, and blood from the enemy. If Voldemort uses Harry's blood, he won't be able to kill him."

"There's no way you're doing that to my godson," Sirius was furious.

"Do you have any other alternatives?" Feige asked.

"Just let things work themselves out," Sirius suggested. "This way, if Voldemort does come back through that potion, at least we're not causing it to happen."

"But if Malfoy doesn't destroy his horcruxes before Voldemort comes back, he's never going to do it," I pointed out.

"How do you expect him to come back?" Newt asked.

"Quirrell brought him back this year," Feige reminded him. "We just need one person to do it, and we're in trouble."

"Do you expect anyone to do it?" Dumbledore asked, looking at Feige directly.

Yisrael quickly threw himself between them, protecting Feige's mind for her if mind magic really exists.

"Not for a few years," Feige said, "But it's possible that an escaped death eater will try sometime in the next few years."

"Are we just guessing or do you have some sort of information?" Snape asked.

"Barty Crouch Jr. is alive," Feige told the surprised visitors. "His father keeps him under an imperious curse in order to stop him from going after Voldemort. If he ever learns to throw it off, he's going to go after him."

"I saw them bring out his body," Sirius argued.

"Polyjuice," Feige told him.

"So his mother took his place in Azkaban?" Dumbledore confirmed.

Feige nodded.

"If we have the aurors raid his house, they'll put him back in Azkaban," Sirius suggested.

"Then how do we get rid of the horcrux?" I asked him.

"We don't," Sirius said. "All the death eaters in Azkaban have life sentences. We don't need to worry about them going for him."

"They may break out," Feige argued.

"They haven't yet," Sirius disagreed.

"There could also be some other unknown person who stumbles upon him and brings him back," I pointed out. "If it happened to Quirrell, it could happen to others."

"How do you know about Crouch anyway?" Snape asked suspiciously.

"Regina wrote about him in one of her journals," Feige lied.

"Maybe we should capture Voldemort and bring him to Azkaban," Sirius suggested.

"He might encourage a mass break-out," Feige pointed out.

"He probably would," Dumbledore agreed. "If he does, the loyal death eaters in Azkaban will try to get him a body, possibly with the potion you suggested."

"I guess Azkaban isn't a good idea," Sirius agreed.

"That's why we should go along with my idea," Feige told him. "I think Malfoy can be persuaded to destroy the two horcruxes if he gets the honor of bringing Voldemort back."

"Who would donate flesh?" Snape asked.

"Crouch?" Feige suggested.

"I still think it sounds too risky," Sirius said. "Even if Voldemort can't kill Harry, he can still torture him."

"How is Harry at defense?" Feige asked.

"He's one of the top students," Tina said proudly. "He has a very good knockback jinx."

"He does," Newt agreed. "He used them on imps, fire crabs, and pixies."

"Like that's really going to stop the dark lord," Snape said sarcastically.

"He can do vermillious and verdimillious," Tina added.

"He tried them on rats," Newt added helpfully.

"Those spells won't save him from Voldemort," Sirius pointed out.

"He can light his wand," Tina added.

"So could most first years," Flitwick said.

"He has a good smokescreen spell," Tina added.

"So far, that and the knockback jinx are the only useful spells you mentioned," Sirius commented.

"He is only a first year," Tina reminded him. "I just did shield charms with the fourth year students. I don't think most first years could master it, but maybe you could teach it to him during the holidays."

"That's very advanced for a first year," Flitwick told her.

"I just did the disarming spell with the second years," Tina added. "I could teach that to the first years."

"It's still too risky," Sirius said.

"We took Harry to Diagon Alley for his school supplies," Feige told him, "So we know that Harry and Voldemort have brother wands. If Harry does a disarming spell the same time that Voldemort does crucio, the wands will connect. Voldemort won't be able to do anything to Harry if Harry has his wand pointed at him."

"I still don't like the idea of Harry being alone with Voldemort," Sirius protested.

"So stay with him," Dumbledore suggested. "When Severus and Lucius kidnap Harry, pretend to be his dog and go along to protect him."

"I still don't like it," Sirius said.

"You barely even know Harry," Dumbledore told him. "When you take Harry for Christmas holidays, talk to him and see how he feels about it."

"That's not the point," Sirius protested. "If I'm in my animagus form, and Harry is an untrained first year, he really has no chance, even with his blood in Voldemort's veins and the twin cores."

"I'll do my best to protect him if we really do that harebrained scheme," Snape offered.

"I can hide somewhere in the cemetery and protect him too," Tina added. "Although I don't like the idea of a first year going up against you-know-who."

"I can also stay and protect him," Dumbledore added.

"Me too," said Flitwick. "Although considering Harry beat you-know-who as a baby, maybe he won't need us."

"So what do I tell Harry?" Sirius asked. "That I really don't like this idea but some insane people do?"

"Tell him that his crazy neighbor wants to get rid of Voldemort for good," Feige offered. "Blame it all on me, tell him who will be there to protect him, and tell him that if Voldemort is doing a killing curse, he should let, but if it's a crucio, he should disarm."

"How is he supposed to know what Voldemort would do?" Sirius challenged.

"Would Queenie be able to tell us what spell Voldemort would do before he does it?" Feige asked.

"Voldemort has very good occlumency skills," Dumbledore said, "but if Queenie is as powerful as Yisrael, she may be able to help."

"As Harry's godfather, I still think I should have more say in this," Sirius argued.

"Harry wants to defeat Voldemort however he can," Dumbledore told him. "And with the prophecy, Voldemort will keep targeting him."

"That's only if he comes back," Sirius pointed out.

"He will," Dumbledore said. "He was merely delayed this year, not defeated. He's not going to give up so fast."

"Why don't we schedule a meeting during your winter break and have Harry come to the meeting?" I suggested. "That seems more logical than us trying to decide how Harry feels, and he spent so much time here this past summer, that he won't complain about coming here."

"We could do that," Sirius agreed.

We picked a date during their vacation for a meeting. It looked like I was stuck in England at least until the summer, possibly longer.


	24. Chapter 24

November - December 1991

Feige's point of view

There was nothing to do now but wait. Actually, that's not true. I still had Yisrael to deal with every second that he's home. I decided to see if he really is a legillemens. I put down three random objects in front of him. One was a phone, one was a toy dinosaur, and the last one was Shlomo's mp3 player. Without saying a word, I thought, "If Yisrael gives me the phone; I'm going to give him some chocolate cake."

Sure enough, Yisrael handed me the phone and got his cake. I tried it next with a tape measure, a pack of markers, and a camera. Once again, he read my mind and gave me the right object for his reinforcer. Next, I tried with a fork, spoon, and knife. This time, Yisrael seemed confused. I guess he can't see clear pictures of my thoughts and just got the purpose of the object I was thinking of. Finally, he handed me the spoon.

"I said the fork," I told him aloud.

He handed me the correct utensil. I wondered how I could use his legillemency for his own benefit. I continued practicing with Yisrael every day, not sure where we were going with this.

With Chanukah coming, I had to do some shopping. I bought wicks and olive oil for both Dovid and Shlomo and candles for Yisrael. We were spoiled back in New York with the prepared wicks. I knew that Shlomo wanted to give something to his friends, so I bought several nosh filled dreidels and chocolate coins. We wouldn't be having Bobbi's Chanukah party this year with her potato latkes, so if we wanted to have any latkes, we would have to make them ourselves or buy them already made.

Before I knew it, Shlomo was coming out of the floo for Shabbos. Yisrael asked for fish the second he saw Shlomo, since he knew that it meant Shabbos is coming, and he loves his fish. Shlomo kept complaining about how cold Hogwarts is and how hard it is to get up early to daven after astronomy class. He was also wondering what people would think about him lighting the menorah in the Ravenclaw common room. The prefilled oil cups with wicks weren't invented yet, but we had twelve of them left from last year, which would be good for the first four nights of Chanukah. When Shabbos was over, Dovid showed Shlomo how to put the wicks into an empty cup and fill it with oil. This way, on Thursday, Shlomo could prepare his own menorah with the empty cups from the first few nights.

It was strange not having Shlomo home when Dovid lit the menorah every night. I wondered how Shlomo was managing at Hogwarts and if he would be able to prepare his wicks on Thursday. Yisrael lit his menorah with supervision.

On Friday, I watched proudly as Shlomo prepared his own menorah. He ended up helping Dovid with his too. Shlomo told us that his friends enjoyed the sweets but were surprised that Shlomo doesn't celebrate Xmas. It's surprising how much some people don't know about other cultures. After Shabbos, Shlomo once again brought his menorah to Hogwarts so he could use it for the last few days. I told him to take back his boots with him since I remembered from the books that it snowed in December.

I was still having fun exploring Yisrael's legillemency. He was able to follow a nice amount of thought based commands, and I found myself wondering if he even listens when we talk to him. He laughed when I was thinking that, so I guess he probably doesn't.

The next Shabbos, Shlomo complained about the snow. He had his winter coat, scarf, hat, gloves, and boots so I don't know what he was complaining about. Besides, he only had one more week and then he would be home until January.

I wasn't expecting anything for my birthday this year. Last year, Shlomo ordered a cake for me and bought me a new siddur. Dovid took credit for both. The year before, Shlomo baked a cake at my sister's house so that I won't find out about it and wrote a poem for me. The year before that, Dovid bought cupcakes. With Shlomo in school, I was sure that nothing would happen, unless Dovid would remember on his own.

Since I was supposed to be turning eleven, my Hebrew and English birthdays were on the same day, so I was cheated out of a birthday. I was thinking about my birthday when preparing breakfast, when Yisrael suddenly said, "Birthday party!"

That reminded Dovid, who said happy birthday. Yisrael asked again for a birthday party but quieted right away. I wondered what Dovid was planning. Yisrael laughed when I thought that.

When we finished eating on Friday night, Shlomo announced that it's time for dessert.

"You didn't have time to make anything," I reminded him. "You came home right before Shabbos."

"I bought something," Dovid said.

"By yourself?" I teased. "Did Shlomo tell you to or did Yisrael drive you crazy to buy something?"

"I do remember birthdays sometimes," Dovid said.

In other words, Yisrael reminded him. Otherwise, he would have said that he did it himself.

"I went to the bakery yesterday," Dovid said proudly. "I asked if they could have something nut free for us today for your birthday."

The cake was good. I still thought it was strange that the birthday after my 37th is my 11th.

On Monday night, we finally had another meeting with the professors, Sirius, and Harry. Harry seemed surprised when he saw Snape in the living room.

"What's he doing here?" Harry asked Sirius.

"I believe he's the professor who found out that you and Shlomo were trying to get basilisk venom to destroy horcruxes," I reminded him.

"Are we here for the horcruxes?" Harry asked. "Have you destroyed any yet?"

"We destroyed three so far," Dumbledore told him. "We are in contact with someone who has access to two more, but he doesn't want to act unless we know that the last one is being dealt with."

"Where do you think the last one is?" Harry asked.

We all looked at him silently.

"Nobody knows?" he tried. "Surely someone here must have ideas."

"We definitely have ideas," Dumbledore said, "but they're not very pleasant."

He looked at me as if to say he doesn't want to be the one who told Harry. I couldn't say that I blamed him.

"Voldemort only made horcruxes for some of the murders he committed," I told Harry. "I think he was planning on waiting for an important murder to make the sixth horcrux."

"How does he decide what's important?" Harry wanted to know.

"I'm actually not sure," I confessed. "I know that the first one was important because he opened the chamber of secrets. The second one was important because he killed his father and grandparents. I think the third one was because he stole two Hogwarts founders' artifacts from the victim. I don't know what made the fourth or fifth important. The sixth one is an interesting story."

"What happened?" Harry asked.

"Voldemort heard about a prophecy saying that a baby born the end of July can destroy him," I started.

"Is that why he tried to kill me?" Harry asked.

"That's why," I told him.

"But there's nothing special about me," Harry argued. "How am I supposed to destroy Voldemort?"

"Don't worry about it," I tried to reassure him. "There is no rule that prophecies have to come true. What happens is that someone hears the prophecy and takes it seriously, and that causes it to come true. Did you ever read Oedipus?"

Harry shook his head.

"In Oedipus, a couple hears about a prophecy that their child will kill his father so they abandon the baby on a mountain," I explained. "If they would have given the baby a loving home, chances are the baby wouldn't have grown up to kill someone he loves. Instead what happened was another family found the baby and kept him. He grew up to be a good person until he heard a prophecy that he was going to kill his father and marry his mother. He left home in order to avoid that happening, even though if he would have stayed home, he had his own free will and he wouldn't have killed his father or married his mother."

"So what happened?" Harry asked.

"He killed his biological father and married his mother, not realizing that she's his biological mother," I told him.

"So if Voldemort wouldn't have heard the prophecy, he wouldn't have tried to kill me?" Harry asked.

"That's right," I told him, "So don't make yourself crazy about the prophecy."

"But why did the curse backfire?" Harry wanted to know.

"That's a long and interesting story," I told him. "When your mother started Hogwarts, she already had a best friend."

"You knew my mother?" Harry asked.

"No, but Giselle and Jonathan were in your parents' year at Hogwarts," I told him.

"You never mentioned it," Harry seemed a bit miffed.

"They have nothing nice to say," I told him, "Which to me is like the highest compliment possible. They don't like me either."

"Anyway, your mother had a best friend," I continued. "But when she started Hogwarts, she was sorted into Gryffindor while her friend was sorted into Slytherin. Somehow, the two of them managed to stay friends for their first few years despite the rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Eventually, they grew apart.

"At the time, Voldemort was heavily recruiting death eaters from his old house, Slytherin," I continued the story. "Professor Dumbledore started his own army to fight the death eaters called the Order of the Phoenix and did most of his recruiting from his former house, Gryffindor. As a result, your mother and her former best friend fought on different sides of the war.

"Voldemort told his death eaters that he was going to kill you because of a prophecy. When your mother's friend heard about it, he asked Voldemort to spare your mother as a tribute to their friendship, and Voldemort said that if she doesn't object to him killing you, than he will let her live."

"So you don't care if an innocent baby dies?" Sirius said to Snape.

"Yeah, didn't the friend think that my mother would be upset if her husband and baby die?" Harry challenged.

"According to Jonathan, your father and Sirius were bullies," I explained.

"Not just according to them," Snape confirmed.

"My dad was a bully?" Harry was disappointed by the news. "And you're also a bully?" he asked Sirius.

"Not a bully," Sirius told him, "Just a prankster."

"But you bullied people with your pranks?" Harry wanted to know.

"I'm not going to prank you," Sirius told him.

"That's not the point!" Harry protested. "You see nothing wrong with bullying innocent people? You're like my cousin and Malfoy?"

"No!" Sirius told him. "I only pranked people who deserved it."

"So then why did my mum's friend want my dad dead?" Harry challenged.

"Because that friend deserved it," Sirius told him.

"Do you really believe that?" I asked Sirius. "You know, according to Judaism, embarrassing someone in public is like killing the person. Are you really comfortable sentencing your fellow students to death?"

"It was a laugh!" Sirius protested. "Besides, you weren't there! How would you even know anything if you don't always believe Jonathan and Giselle? Jonathan was a prat! He was always snooping where he wasn't wanted."

"That sounds like him," I agreed. "But he and Giselle took detailed notes, and to me it sounds cruel, not funny."

"What did they do?" Harry asked nervously.

"I don't think any of the people involved would appreciate my telling you," I told him, "Although your father stopped pranking and bullying during his sixth year of Hogwarts. He realized for himself that it's wrong and did such a good job improving his behaviors that he became head boy."

"And Sirius?" Harry asked.

"You could ask him yourself," I said, "although I think you know the answer based on his protests of innocence."

"We had fun," Sirius said. "There were four of us: me, James, Remus, and Peter. Remus is a werewolf. You'll meet him next week since it was just the full moon. Otherwise, I would have invited him for Christmas. We all became animagi so we can stay with him during the full moon. I'm a dog, Peter is a rat, and your father was a stag."

"Cool!" Harry said, impressed. "Is it hard to turn into an animal?"

"It took us along time to learn how to do it," Sirius told him. "We finally managed in our fifth year."

"But that's a nice thing to do," Harry said trying to figure it out. "That's not being a bully."

"That's because we weren't bullies," Sirius told him. "We made a map called the marauders'' map. It showed everyone in the castle and where they were."

"What happened to it?" Harry asked.

"Filch took it," Sirius growled.

"Do you think he would give it to me if I ask?" Harry asked.

"Considering there's a new generation of pranksters at Hogwarts, I doubt that Filch still has it," I pointed out. "Somebody must have stolen it already."

"I can ask Fred and George," Harry said. "They get in the most trouble. They would know where to look for it."

"They probably have it already," I pointed out.

"And it will be confiscated the next time I see it," Snape added.

"I see nothing wrong with Harry having something of his father's," Dumbledore told Snape.

"He'll just use it to make trouble," Snape told him. "Why would students need a map of the whole school?"

"To make sure the coast is clear when we sneak around at night," Sirius explained.

"Where do you go at night?" Harry asked curiously.

"I told you, we used to sneak out to Remus," Sirius reminded him.

"So that's not making trouble," Harry said, relieved. "What else did you do?"

"James and I had mirrors that we could use to talk to each other when we were in separate detentions," Sirius said.

"You should probably give one to Harry," I told him. "This way, if Harry's in danger or thinks you're in danger, he could use it to call you."

"As interesting as this conversation isn't," Snape interrupted, "why don't we get back to the horcrux discussion."

"Right," I remembered. "I was explaining why you survived the killing curse.

"Voldemort killed your father," I told Harry. "Your mother didn't want him killing you, so she stood in front of your crib. Voldemort told her to move away, and she refused. He told her again, and she said, 'Not Harry, take me instead.'

"When she said that, she caused a protection that if Voldemort kills her, he won't be able to kill you."

"So a death eater saved my life," Harry said surprised.

"And I'm sure that all these years, he didn't even know," I added quietly.

"Can we discuss the horcruxes another time?" Snape asked softly. "I'm not feeling so great."

"Of course," Dumbledore said. "How about we meet next week?"

We made up to meet next Monday. This was a long and interesting meeting.


	25. Chapter 25

December 1991

Dovid's point of view

Back in New York, I was off from work from December 24 until January 2. That's one of the advantages of working in a school. Now, my kids are off, but I'm not. Yisrael was off the 20th through January 2nd while Shlomo's last day was the 20th. I only get three days off. I was surprised to find out that December 26 is called Boxing Day in England. That concept doesn't exist in New York. Apparently, it's a combination of black Friday sales and Thanksgiving football. Since the internet wasn't invented yet, I couldn't shop online. Besides, I didn't really need clothes and the electronics that interest me haven't been invented yet. Actually, I miss having a walkman. I was never a big fan of mp3 players or ipods and I could always go to a judaica store to get some new tapes. Feige and I had tons of tapes when we first got married, mostly Miami Boys Choir. I wondered where they are now as tape recorders haven't been used in a long time. I would also spend time watching British sports and trying to get American hockey.

Shlomo was eager to go shopping with me. He heard about how I miss my walkman many times and was interested in finding out what singers were around when the current singers were still kids. Yisrael has a bit of an obsession with 21st century Ari Goldwag, but Feige remembers him as a soloist in Miami Boys Choir when she was a kid. Shlomo thought it would be funny to by some tapes and tell Yisrael that it's Ari Goldwag singing. Of course, that meant we also had to buy a tape recorder. Those are actually easier to find now that YouTube wasn't invented yet. I also bought some Mordechai Ben David tapes.

When I came home, I found out that the Soviet Union was dissolved again. I already lived through it once as a kid, but it didn't make much of an impression on me. As an adult, it was interesting to read about on the news but didn't affect my daily life.

I watched Manchester United win Oldham. Back in New York, I had a friend who married someone from Manchester. She gets very excited about British soccer. She always hung Manchester United flags on her car and porch. I realized that the next time I see them; I could tell them that I watched Manchester United play in 1991. It would be hard to explain how Shlomo is watching a game from before he was born.

I also watched a horserace. Feige said that horse racing is cruel to the horses, but Desert Orchid didn't seem to mind racing again. However, after watching the horse fall, I agreed that old horses shouldn't have to compete.

It seemed like a waste to go to work on Friday, especially since I was leaving early again. Shlomo did a nice amount of cooking and baking for Shabbos since he was home anyway. I ended up having a little too much cake over Shabbos.

On Monday night, we had our next meeting. There was an unfamiliar man who joined this time. Sirius introduced him as Remus Lupin. I tried to remember where I heard that name from. After a moment, I remembered that Sirius said he was a werewolf. I tried to excuse myself and my kids from the meeting and suggest that they find another place to meet.

"Why?" Feige asked. "Are you scared you'll miss a soccer game?"

"If you would know what I know, you wouldn't want everyone here either," I told her quietly.

"Seriously?" she asked. "You think that I don't know why you're scared? A werewolf is only dangerous one night a month. The other 29 days, I would probably trust Mr. Lupin with Yisrael more than I would trust you."

"You don't even know him," I pointed out.

"What does that say about how much I trust you with Yisrael?" she countered.

I sometimes wonder if Feige will ever forget about the times I dozed off when watching Yisrael or didn't bother following him from room to room and he destroyed the house. No matter how many times I watched him successfully, she still won't let go of my not so successful times.

"Did you tell Harry anything relevant this week?" Feige asked Sirius.

Sirius shook his head.

"Of course not," Snape said. "Why should the mutt do something functional when he could be filling Potter's head with stories about all the mischief he and his little friends did in school? Of course, he wants Potter to follow in his father's path."

"I'm sure you noticed there's not much chance of that happening," Feige pointed out.

"I noticed nothing of the sort," Snape said stiffly.

"Professor," Harry said timidly to Snape, "Sirius said that you were the friend who asked Voldemort not to kill my mum. Thank you for saving my life."

"It wasn't your life I was trying to save," Snape told him coldly.

"Yes, your behavior in class makes that obvious," Sirius retorted.

"He asked what kind of teacher you are," Harry blurted out nervously.

"That's not what we're here to discuss now," Dumbledore said firmly. "Let's get on with our story."

"You explained what happened when my parents died," Harry said, "but what did Voldemort make into a horcrux?"

"That's a good question," Dumbledore responded while looking at Feige.

"Voldemort did not actually complete the horcrux making ritual that night," Feige told him, "but when the killing curse hit him, a piece of his soul broke off and found a new host."

"What were the other horcruxes?" Harry wanted to know.

"Slytherin's locket, Ravenclaw's diadem, Hufflepuff's cup, a diary, and the resurrection stone," Feige listed.

"Did my parents own any of the founders' items?" Harry asked.

"Not that I know of," Feige said.

All the professors shook their heads in response.

"What's the significance of the diary?" was Harry's next question.

"It was proof that he opened the chamber of secrets," Dumbledore said.

"What's the resurrection stone?" Harry wanted to know.

"There were three brothers who each made a powerful magical item," Feige explained. "One made an unbeatable wand, one made an invisibility cloak, and one made a stone that brings back a form of dead people."

Harry looked shocked.

"Is my cloak a horcrux?" he asked Dumbledore.

"No, it wasn't even in the house at the time," Dumbledore told him. "I had borrowed it from your father before he died. You were the only one able to leave the house that night. Everything else was destroyed."

Harry looked petrified at what was just insinuated.

"I'm the horcrux?" he asked shocked. "Are you going to kill me?"

"Nobody will kill you," Feige said. "We have a few options and we're all of different opinions, but it's only your opinion that matters."

"I don't want a piece of Voldemort's soul in me," Harry cried. "Get it out!"

"That's what we're here to discuss," Feige told him calmly. "My idea is to have two not very loyal death eaters and one loyal one bring Voldemort back to Britain this summer after destroying the other two horcruxes. There is a potion that could help him regain a body using your blood. If he does that, he won't be able to kill you, but if you get hit by a killing curse from him, he will destroy the horcrux."

"I don't like that idea," Sirius jumped in. "Even if Voldemort can't kill you, he can hurt you, and I don't want you getting hurt."

"He's going to come after me someday," Harry said. "Why prolong the wait?"

"Because right now, you don't know how to defend yourself," Sirius told him firmly. "Voldemort can torture you and do what he wants, and you won't be able to do a thing to stop it."

"Except that his wand won't work against yours," Feige added.

"Because they're brothers?" Harry asked.

"That's right," Dumbledore said. "They both have cores from Fawkes, my pet phoenix."

"So if he's doing a killing curse, I should let, but any other curse, I should take out my wand," Harry concluded.

"Do you know the killing curse?" Sirius asked.

"All I remember is the green light," Harry told him. "I think I also remember him laughing."

"That's not going to work," Snape said. "By the time you see the green light, it would be too late."

"So what's your idea?" Harry asked Sirius.

"Make sure nobody ever goes for Voldemort," Sirius told him.

"What about the horcrux?" Harry asked.

"Leave it," Sirius told him. "It hasn't bothered you until now so don't worry about it."

"I don't want it!" Harry protested.

"It wouldn't be forever," Dumbledore told him. "Eventually, he will come back, but at least you have time to train until then."

"Who's going to train me?" Harry asked. "I'll make sure to learn everything quickly so we can get rid of the horcrux."

"You have professors training you every day in school," Dumbledore said quietly.

"I don't think Voldemort would get scared off by my levitating a feather or turning a matchstick into a needle," Harry said.

"That's why we shouldn't rush into things," Dumbledore said. "During your first year, you're just learning to do magic. Every year, you will learn more things. This year, you learned to send up sparks for help, a knockback jinx, and how to do a smokescreen. Next year, you'll learn the disarming spell, tongue tying curse, tickling charm, and a body bind curse."

"So I have to wait until next year to get rid of the horcrux that way," Harry said sadly.

"Didn't your brother have a brain tumor?" Harry asked Feige. "How did the doctors get rid of it?"

"They used radiation," Feige told him, "but it came back and spread. The cancer originally started on his chest. After he had surgery to remove it, five new tumors appeared on his lungs and one on his brain. He had radiation for his brain and chemo and surgery for his lungs, but ended up with more tumors on his hips and pelvis. After he had surgery for that, it came back to his brain. He had radiation again, but it spread to his spine. At that point, there was nothing left for medical science to do."

"That's why I want to invent a potion that cures cancer," Shlomo reminded Snape. "Muggle medicine for cancer is like flipping a coin. Heads, you lose. Tails, the cancer wins."

"I doubt it could remove a horcrux if it can't even fight cancer," Dumbledore said.

"But I could try going to a muggle doctor or a magical healer and see what they say," Harry argued.

"Radiation has risks and side effects," I pointed out. "I don't know that it's worth it for you to put yourself under all of that. Feige's brother became very sick from it."

"I wonder what would happen if we put the fragment that's the real Voldemort through the veil of death," Tina mused. "Would that kill him or would he come back?"

"That does sound safer than radiation," I agreed. "Not that I know what the veil of death is, but radiation kills good and bad cells."

"The veil is a cause of death," Flitwick mused. "But he can't die if he has horcruxes, so I doubt the veil would be more effective than a killing curse."

"We don't know where people go after going through the veil," Snape added. "That's why it's in the department of mysteries. It's still being studied."

"I see three possibilities," Dumbledore said. "Either it would be like Filius said since his soul is still anchored. He may pass to the other side, but his horcruxes would remain, or it could be that nothing will happen at all."

"I don't think he could be killed," Remus said sadly. "It would be nice if it was that simple, but most things aren't."

"I wonder if chemo would work," Snape said thoughtfully. "From what I hear, it's pretty horrible."

"You just want Harry to suffer!" Sirius yelled at Snape.

"No," Snape said, "I just want the horcrux destroyed and Harry to live. Otherwise, Lily would have died for nothing."

"I don't think chemo would work since it doesn't kill the patient," Dumbledore said.

"What about a clinical death?" Tina asked. "Would that be enough to destroy a horcrux if we can restart the heart after?"

"I don't know if anything muggle could destroy a horcrux," Dumbledore said.

"It's not a question of muggle or magical," Feige told him. "It's a question of what is considered death. Does a heart stopping count as death?"

"I think that we should focus on training Harry so that when Voldemort comes back, we can deal with him," Dumbledore said.

"I think that as soon as I'm ready to fight him, we should bring him back," Harry chimed in. "I don't want a piece of him in me."

"That would be very dangerous," Sirius cautioned. "You would have to fight the most dangerous wizard of all times."

"All I need is a way to know if it's a spell that kills so I know if I should let it hit me," Harry said.

"I have an idea for that," Feige said.

She told them what she was doing with Yisrael.

"Let's test this," Dumbledore said. "Each of us will think of something for Yisrael to get us. Feige will think of the reward Yisrael will get when he finishes retrieving all the items."

I watched in fascination as Yisrael went over to the bookcase, picked up a book, looked at it twice, and gave it to Lupin. He went to the desk, took a pack of markers, and gave it Tina. He gave an umbrella to Dumbledore and his knapsack to Newt. He gave his doll to Flitwick who immediately animated it for him. He reached into my pocket, pulled out a ten pound note, and gave it to Snape. He pulled off his shirt and gave it to Sirius.

"Yisrael just gave you the shirt off his back!" I told Sirius.

I turned to Snape.

"That money isn't for keeps," I told him.

Meanwhile, Feige gave Yisrael a bowl of popcorn.

"The money is my payment for what your wife put me through last week," Snape told me. "She revealed personal information that I didn't want shared."

"Sorry about that," Feige said. "I was explaining to Harry why he lived. I didn't even say who the friend is."

"I think I'll still keep the money," he said cheerfully.

"What for?" I asked. "Are you ever in the muggle world?"

"I could change it for galleons at Gringotts," he said.

I thought for Yisrael to get it back. He tried. He started climbing on Snape and tried getting it out of his hand. Snape pulled out his wand.

"You even hex little kids?" Sirius asked him incredulously.

"Even I know not to keep this very fine umbrella," Dumbledore said. "Give him back the money so he'll stop pestering you."

Snape handed over the money and Yisrael gave it back to me.

"Now we need someone to teach him to read curses," Feige said.

"Queenie could probably help," Tina said. "I'll ask her to come visit and work with Yisrael while Harry gets trained enough to hold his own."

"If Queenie is coming, why can't she be the one to read Voldemort's curses?" Shlomo asked.

"Because Grindelwald was able to fool her," Tina said.

"Well then, why would Yisrael be able to do what she can't?" Shlomo wanted to know.

"Yisrael was able to get past my shields during the last meeting," Dumbledore said. "I don't know anyone else who could do that."

"Okay, so we have Queenie work with the little one and Potter try to actually learn something in his classes," Snape summed up our meeting. "Now could we leave?"

We agreed that there's no reason to meet again until the summer. Tina would ask Queenie to come visit. I wondered what she was like.


	26. Chapter 26

January- February 1992

Shlomo's point of view

If we still had a long time before we could go home, I wondered if I really could find a cure for cancer before we go back. If I did, we would somehow have to find a way to get it to my uncle before he died. My mother told me that while there is a slight chance I may find a cure, we can't bring back the dead. We could only prevent future suffering. She didn't think I would find a cure though.

I don't really agree with my mother. In Dan Gutman's baseball cards series, when Stosh travels through time, he could sometimes save a life. He saved his uncle by giving him flu medicine during an epidemic. I tried telling Mommy that we could give Uncle Chaim Dovid whatever potion I invent, but she said that we can't send it through time. That didn't stop me from trying.

I still had a few days before I had to go back to school, so I decided to use my time to do research. I started by going through lists of potion ingredients and what they do. The first ingredient that looked useful was billywig sting slime. Dittany was another one that looked good. Fluxweed also looked useful. Horklump juice could also probably help. I wondered if horned slugs are a healing ingredient. I know they're in the boil cure, but I wasn't sure what they do. I also wondered if pairing Felix Felicis with chemo would make the chemo more effective. I remembered that phoenix tears were very effective but didn't know if that would work on cancer. It could also be that a shrinking potion could be injected directly on tumors. I was actually looking forward to going to back to school to discuss it with Snape.

When I did go back to school, I had to wait until after my first potions class to talk to him. He wasn't very supportive.

"Even if you could find a cure to cancer, what good would it do? Your uncle is dead already," Snape told me.

"It could save others from going through what he did," I pointed out.

"It would also violate the statute of secrecy," Snape added.

"What's more important, secrecy or human lives?" I challenged.

"If we lose our secrecy, we may lose our lives," Snape countered. "The muggle world isn't ready to accept that we exist."

"So we market it as a muggle medicine," I suggested.

"You won't be able to get it approved by MHRA," Snape pointed out.

"We could if we use magic," I wasn't backing down easily.

"You're too young to do magic outside of school," Snape reminded me.

"Don't get so caught up on details," I admonished. "Let's first figure out what potion could work, and then we can worry about marketing."

"We may not even need a potion to get rid of cancer," Snape said, "but that's not the point. The point is that we can not get involved in healing muggles."

"My father has a friend in New York who was married for ten years before he had any kids," I told Snape. "They went through lots of treatments to finally have a baby and then his wife was diagnosed with cancer. Don't you think that if we could help, then we should?"

"What form of treatment is she doing?" Snape asked.

"Chemo," I told him.

"If you ever go back to New York, I'll make you some Felix Felicis to give her with her chemo," Snape offered. "What type of cancer does she have?"

"I think its breast cancer," I said, "but it spread."

"The tumors from your uncle's lungs would have been easy to get rid of without chemo," Snape told me five years too late. "There is a lung clearing potion."

"We should offer it at muggle hospitals," I said.

"If you become a muggle doctor, you could use any form of treatment you think you could get away with," Snape advised, "But you should also learn everything you can here so that you know what to do."

I had no choice but to agree that Snape's idea was the best compromise. I still thought we should be doing what we can to help others, but as a kid, I had no say.

In defense, we learned the leg locker curse. I wondered if Harry would ever have an opportunity to try it on Voldemort. I also wondered when Professor Scamander would teach us the disarming spell.

There wasn't much to discuss when I went home for Shabbos. Now that we're not having meetings anymore, there's nothing happening, and it doesn't look like I'll be curing cancer anytime soon.

I missed another quidditch match of course. When I came back one week, everyone was talking about the fastest quidditch match ever. Harry set a record for catching the snitch quickly.

Queenie Goldstein came to England in February. It was very awkward having her at the house. She seemed to be having one way conversations with everyone, just by reading their thoughts. She and Yisrael were constantly engaged in silent conversations. On the plus side, she did help Yisrael use his fork when eating.

I tried focusing on the classes that would be helpful when I get back home. Astronomy was useless, but I still went to class every week.

"How will it ever help to know the names of stars, planets and moons?" I asked Sinistra late one night.

"It will help you immensely on your end of year exams," she said coldly. "Besides, if you decide to go for Divination as one of your third year electives, you'll need to know your basic Astronomy."

"I guess that's one class I'm not choosing," I said tiredly.

While we learned a lot of charms, I didn't see how any could help either. Sure, a levitation charm could help people in magical households with heavy lifting, but for me it was useless. I didn't see what good a softening charm, fire making charm, or dancing charm would do.

"Are we ever going to learn healing charms?" I asked Flitwick.

"If you pass your OWL in Charms, you will learn some healing spells in Newt classes," Flitwick told me, "But if you're interested in becoming a healer, you will need additional training after."

"So what's the purpose of learning these spells?" I asked. "Just to get a good enough mark to continue?"

"These spells can help you in different situations," Flitwick said. "Besides, by starting with easier spells, you are slowly gaining control of your magic so that you can eventually do harder healing spells if it interests you."

Defense Against Dark Arts had spells that could be useful in a fight, but we still didn't learn the disarming jinx.

I enjoyed taking care of dittany in Herbology.

"Does it cure things by itself, or does it need to be in a potion?" I asked Professor Sprout.

"There are lots of potions that use dittany," she told me. "Although it could be eaten raw."

"Where do people get it from?" I asked.

"You could buy some in any apothecary," she said.

"Is it something I can plant at home?" I wanted to know.

"Any plant could be planted at home," she said. "I can give you a list of books about dittany that you could read from the library if you're interested."

I was. I wondered what I could heal with dittany in the muggle world, but needed to have a way of obtaining it before being transported back home.

Everyone agreed that History of Magic was a complete waste. Asking Binns about it was an even bigger waste. Transfiguration didn't seem any more useful.

"Why would I ever want to turn a mouse into a snuffbox?" I asked McGonagall.

"Because you will be doing it during exams," she said, "and you need to improve your attitude if you don't want to end up in detention."

Potions should have been useful, but I didn't see when I would ever need a forgetfulness potion.

"Can't we do healing potions?" I asked.

"I believe I discussed this with you at the beginning of the year," Snape reprimanded. "You're underage and are doing potions that are on your level. Besides, the boil cure is a healing potion, and that's five points from Ravenclaw for asking me again."

I resolved not to keep asking my professors and to immerse myself in the world of dittany instead.


	27. Chapter 27

February 1992

Yisrael's point of view

When Queenie first came to my house, I was thinking that she's not my cousin. She thought right back at me that she wasn't so sure we were related either. I never had anyone think back at me before. She laughed and thought that maybe we are related since we're both able to communicate through thought. I wondered what would happen if I pull Queenie's hair, but she thought back that it's not a good idea. She was curious about why I like to pull hair and agreed with me that hair is soft. She also thought it was sad that when I pull my dolls' hair, very often the head pops off. She thought that she can fix the doll head that is stuck to the antennae of my toy car, and she did. Now, nothing sharp pokes me when I pull the hair, but I still prefer pulling hair on live people. Queenie wondered why I can't really talk with words if I'm able to think. I tried to show her that I think with pictures.

Queenie told me not to worry about what other people think of me. I usually don't, but she said that because she saw some memories of people who made me regress. I try not to think about them often. Queenie agrees with me that it's a good idea.

"So, in a year and a half, you'll be going to Hogwash?" Queenie asked me.

I realized what joke she made and laughed at her.

"You prefer your school back in New York," she told me. "I also like New York."

The first Shabbos that Queenie was here, she was talking to Shlomo about recipes. Of course, Shlomo didn't have to say much.

The next week, Queenie wanted me to focus on identifying the color she was thinking about and sending it back to her. That was too easy, so she asked Mommy to think of a color and for me to send it to her in my thoughts. That was still easy since Mommy doesn't know how to close her mind. Queenie agreed that it would be harder with an occlumens, but didn't have any available while Hogwarts was in session.

I still had to go to school every day that Queenie was here. She didn't stay in the house when I was at school, but she came not long after I came home every day. She went through all my thoughts and experiences about school and tried sending me messages to put more effort into my work. She did think it would surprise people too much if I would suddenly rewind my brain back to how I was when I was two, but she said I should put in some effort to learn something.

One day, Queenie and I worked on making Mommy do what I want. That was fun, but it would be harder with someone who closes their mind.

Queenie tried to show me that I'm perfect the way that I always was. She got me to remember how I used to talk, read, and sing when I was younger, before people made comments about my unclear speech.

Queenie wondered if all kids with autism are like me, or if I was unique. Once you meet one person with autism, that's it, you met one person with autism. Just like not all women are the same and not all blondes are the same, not all autistic people are the same.

Queenie made me think about all the people who hurt me. I remembered the interview when I was four and trying to get into elementary school. The principal said lots of not nice things about the way I talk, so I stopped talking. I thought about all the mean things Savti said to me over the years and what she said about me. Mommy yells at her if she's mean to me, so she usually isn't anymore. I thought about Zeidy locking me on the porch when I was three. Mommy let me go right away.

People always assume that I'm going to act a certain way, so I usually act how they expect, but I wasn't always like that. When I was two, people thought I was brilliant. Yes, they knew I had autism, but I was still brilliant. By the time I was four, other people caught up to me. I guess I need to learn to be smart again. Wait, that's Queenie's thought, not mine. It doesn't belong in my head.

Sometimes, I want Queenie out of my head. I'm not very good at pushing her out. She keeps looking at me when I was two. She likes when I used to talk more.

Queenie always knows when I'm hungry, thirsty or need the bathroom. I didn't have any accidents since she started coming to my house. She always tells Mommy what I want to eat when she comes. She even tells Mommy what I want her to make for supper.

The second Shabbos that Queenie was here, she was still talking to Shlomo about recipes. She thought it was fascinating that Shlomo makes up his own recipes. They talked about different recipes, but Queenie didn't always wait for Shlomo to say what he wanted to.

The next week, Queenie closed her mind and still wanted me to know what she was thinking. It meant that I had to look in her eyes. I saw a boring dinner party. That didn't interest me so I kept looking and saw a man who Queenie knows as Jacob. Queenie kept thinking about the dinner party, but I kept going back to Jacob. Finally, Queenie turned around in order to stop me.

"You're good," she said. "You were able to get through my shields."

I laughed at her. I don't know why she thought she could stop me.

I thought it was funny that Jacob lived a few blocks away from me, but I never met him. Queenie said that he didn't live in my neighborhood for many years. I tried to find out more about the relationship between Queenie and Jacob, but she kept pushing me away.

"You're persistent," she said. "That's a good thing."

It is good. I need to know what other people think since I don't always understand what they say. I also need to know what they expect of me so I won't bother working hard with people who will just disappoint me. Queenie doesn't agree with that. She knows there is lots of hurt in my past since she keeps looking at it, but she doesn't think I should let it dictate how I act. She also thinks I should use words more often.

I wondered how long Queenie would stay for. I also wondered what ever happened to Jacob.


	28. Chapter 28

March 1992

Feige's point of view

I don't really like having Queenie around, but I don't have much of a choice about it if I want Voldemort defeated without any casualties. I generally tried counting in my head whenever Queenie was in the same room as me, hoping that would protect my mind from her view.

"That's not a bad idea," Queenie said to me out of the blue on day, "but that just makes numbers appear on the surface. Anyone who wants to know what's underneath can probe deeper to find what they want."

"Could you try to stay out of my head?" I asked her.

"I would tell you to read a book about occlumency, but since you're a no-maj, it doesn't really apply to you," Queenie told me. "Although you do live with a natural legillemens."

I focused on counting until Queenie left the room. I know that I'm rude to her, but I don't need her commenting about my private thoughts.

Once Queenie and Yisrael were safely upstairs, I wondered how things would work out with Sirius and Harry over the summer.

"Yisrael wants pizza for supper," Queenie told me, walking into the kitchen without warning me.

"I have some in the freezer," I said. "I guess that will be tonight's supper."

I should really just stop thinking about anything when Queenie is in my house. I never know when she will invade my mind.

"I'm not invading," she said defensively, "I'm working with Yisrael. I'm sure you appreciate that."

"I do," I told her, "but that doesn't mean I want anyone to see my thoughts."

"Oh, but Yisrael's been sifting through your thoughts for years," Queenie pointed out.

"He can't say anything about them," I told her.

"He is good at keeping secrets," she agreed.

I sighed with relief when they were once again gone.

When Shlomo came home for Shabbos, he told me that everyone is busy studying for exams already even though they're not until June. I reminded him that Purim was coming, and that when I agreed to spend a ridiculous amount on his bear costume last year, he agreed to wear it for a few years. That left two choices for Yisrael. I asked Queenie if Yisrael would prefer to be Mr. Potato Head or a king. After the two of them had a silent conversation, Queenie told me that Yisrael prefers Mr. Potato Head since he doesn't like the feeling of a crown.

Purim was on a Thursday this year. Shlomo came home again, and Dovid took off from work. When we're home for Purim, we have lots of people to give shalach manos to. Here, we don't know most of the frum community. We gave to the rabbi, but didn't really know who else to give to. My family is back home in New York, Shlomo's friends here aren't Jewish, I didn't really make friends here, and Dovid doesn't have much to do with the guys in shul. Queenie and Tina aren't sure if they're Jewish, but I prepared shalach manos for them anyway. Queenie offered to stay with Yisrael while I go to megilla. Back home, we used to take turns. Dovid went first, and I went when he came home. It was strange to go to shul together.

Queenie asked me about hamentashim, so of course, we had to make some. Luckily, she doesn't mind dealing with sticky dough, so she shaped them. We filled them with chocolate frosting since that's the only filling we all like. I reminded Shlomo that my brother-in-law once made meat hamentashim. That reminded him of the lachmagine that Yisrael's principal always made back home, so of course, we made those too.

When we're home, we always eat the Purim seuda by my parents. That wasn't happening this year, so instead we invited Queenie, Tina, Newt, and their families to join us. We had one son of Tina and Newt come with his wife and son Rolf. I don't know if Tina and Newt have any other children. Jacob Kowalski also came.

"Have you been in England this whole time?" I asked Jacob curiously.

"I spent years traveling with Queenie, Tina, and Newt," he said. "I've been staying at Newt's and Tina's house together with Queenie for the last month and a half."

"I feel bad," I told him. "You stay by yourself the whole time that Queenie hangs out here."

"I don't think I'm by myself when I'm at the Scamander house," Jacob contradicted.

"I meant that you're the only human," I pointed out.

"That's actually how we met," Jacob told me. "Newt lost lots of creatures in New York, and we all helped him find them."

Jacob changed the subject to the food. He knew that Queenie helped a lot with the cooking and baking and that Shlomo did plenty while he was home. I wondered if Jacob somehow learned legilimency from Queenie.

"It's not really something that a no-maj can learn," Queenie told me.

"How do you survive with her in your head all the time?" I asked Jacob.

"I'm used to it," he said.

"Are you making trouble, little sister?" Tina teased.

"Did you know that Feige counts over and over again when I'm in the room in order to try to prevent me from seeing her thoughts?" Queenie shared. "Shlomo hums the same song over and over, and Dovid's thoughts are so scattered that it's hard to keep up with them."

"You're supposed to be focusing on Yisrael," Tina pointed out.

"I do," Queenie countered, "but it would be helpful if we could have an occlumens here for Yisrael to try to read."

After a pause, Queenie said, "Yisrael just told me that you don't want to volunteer."

"How did he get through that?" Tina wondered.

"If he could get through your shields, maybe he could get through you-know-who," Queenie said optimistically.

"Let me try again," Tina said, not ready to give in.

"Yisrael is thinking about your reaction to when you were fired back in New York," Queenie said. "Your shields aren't as strong as you thought."

"Or maybe he's just stronger than you give him credit for," Tina countered.

"That too," Queenie agreed.

"Why did you get fired?" Dovid asked.

"It's a long story," Tina said. "But I got my job back after I helped arrest Grindelwald."

"She got fired for doing what's right," Newt offered. "She got fired for standing up for an abused child."

"Is this the first Purim seuda where nobody got drunk?" Shlomo changed the subject.

"It's not," I told him. "Nobody got drunk last year at Bubby's house for the first time in ages, and you asked the same question then."

"So your brother-in-law has diabetes?" Queenie asked.

"Okay, who was thinking about that?" I wanted to know.

"Dovid thinks it's sad that diabetics can't drink," Queenie told everyone.

"You know, it's not nice to broadcast people's private thoughts in public," Dovid admonished. "Especially not in my own house."

"Feige's right," Queenie told him. "If it's in your own house, it's not really in public."

"Can you stay out of my head?" I said again.

"Shlomo was thinking the same thing," Queenie offered.

I think we were all relieved when she left for the night. That had to be the strangest Purim company I ever dealt with.


	29. Chapter 29

March 1992

Dovid's point of view

I didn't really see a point in Shlomo returning to Hogwarts just for Friday, but he did it. When he came home again before Shabbos, I asked him if anything was going on, but he said no. The Ravenclaws were busy studying for exams, but the only Gryffindor from his year who was studying was Hermione. The British say revising instead of studying. Sometimes I feel like I'm learning a new language.

My birthday was a quiet affair. Feige baked a cake and got annoyed when I ate most of it right away. You can't have your cake and eat it too. I don't know why she baked a cake if she didn't want me to eat it. She seemed to think that a 9x13 cake is supposed to last more than a day.

The next week when Shlomo came home, he had a letter from Professor Dumbledore. Apparently, Lucius Malfoy wanted an update on the horcruxes. Snape tried telling him that they may need to bring Voldemort back in order to destroy the last horcrux, and Malfoy wanted a meeting with everyone involved. Dumbledore had reluctantly agreed to a meeting Monday night if we agree.

Malfoy looked around in disgust as he entered our house.

"Why are we meeting in a muggle house?" he asked disdainfully.

"We're meeting in my house," I told him.

"Who are you?" he wanted to know.

"David Goldstein," I answered.

"You're the father of the boy who bothered my son on the Hogwarts express?" he asked.

"Actually, Shlomo offered your son some lunch," Feige corrected. "Draco said that he was hungry and had no more food, so Shlomo offered the leftovers from his lunch. If Draco would have come earlier, he would have been offered a real sandwich, but since he came the end of the train ride, all Shlomo had to offer him were the two slices of bread that he already scraped the cheese off."

"You are Mrs. Goldstein I presume," Malfoy said.

Feige nodded. Dumbledore had already prepared enough chairs, so when Malfoy entered the living room with Snape right behind; they were able to sit down right away.

"This appears to be an interesting mix," Malfoy commented. "We have me and Severus, both Slytherins who were accused of being death eaters; two Americans who live in a muggle household; Professor Dumbledore who led the group that fought the dark lord, my wife's cousin who spent ten years in Azkaban, my Charms professor who currently teaches my son, both Defense against Dark Arts professors, and who are you?" he asked Queenie.

"Queenie Goldstein," she said. "And your fears are unfounded. You didn't just walk into a trap. We really do need your help, and your master didn't feel anything when the other horcruxes were destroyed."

"I don't know what you are talking about," Malfoy said stiffly. "I do have basic occlumency shields up, and besides, it is rude to invade someone's mind."

"You are correct," Queenie said. "You do seem to have mastered occlumency, and I would not easily invade your mind. However, for our plan to succeed, we need Yisrael to silently let us know what spell Voldemort will be using, so he just practiced on you. I would imagine that Voldemort's shields are stronger than yours, but it was a good practice activity."

"I thought we are trying to destroy the dark lord," Malfoy said. "If he has no body, how would he do any spells?"

"You really didn't tell him," Queenie said to Snape. "You're also making Yisrael push very hard to try to get anything from you. Should I assume that your shields get lowered slightly in the midst of a duel?"

"What didn't you tell me?" Malfoy asked Snape.

"Three horcruxes were destroyed," Feige told him. "A fourth one is in your possession and a fifth one is in the possession of your sister-in-law. The last one is in a live person."

"So if we kill this person, the dark lord can't come back," Malfoy reasoned.

"We don't usually kill innocent people just because the dark lord as you call him did something evil to him," I argued.

"How else do you destroy the horcrux?" Malfoy asked. "The only way to destroy a horcrux is to destroy the container beyond repair."

"There's a potion that Voldemort can use to make a new body," Feige explained. "He would need bone of his father, flesh of a servant, and blood from an enemy. If we use blood from the person he turned into a horcrux, he won't be able to successfully kill that person, but when he casts the killing curse on him, he would destroy the horcrux."

"Who would donate flesh?" Malfoy asked calmly.

"A loyal death eater who escaped Azkaban," Feige told him.

"I'm not breaking my sister-in-law out," Malfoy said. "I don't need to put up with her when she's on the run."

"That's fine," Feige said. "A concerned couple already broke their son out years ago by having the mother use polyjuice to turn into her son and vice versa. There is a loyal death eater out of Azkaban who could hopefully be persuaded to donate some flesh."

"How do you know so much?" Malfoy asked suspiciously.

"We Goldsteins are a strange group," I told him. "We have our ways of getting information."

"Would you like me to demonstrate?" Queenie asked me cheekily.

"Please don't," I responded, while putting on a pair of sunglasses.

"That may stop me temporarily, but it won't stop Yisrael," she retorted.

"Is that the silent seer?" Malfoy asked.

"He's not actually a seer," Queenie told him. "He is a natural legilimens just like me, but because he is nonverbal, he is more focused at picking up random thoughts without words getting in the way. That is how he discovered a person disguised as a rat."

"So when are you going after the dark lord?" Malfoy asked. "I want to know how much longer I need to hold on to the horcruxes."

"You could destroy them now," I told him.

"I'm not doing it until I know the status of the dark lord's death plans," Malfoy said. "The last thing I need is for him to find out I destroyed them."

"The human horcrux is a student in Hogwarts and isn't available until the summer," Feige said. "Did you teach his class the disarming hex?" she asked Tina.

"Newt and I had fun demonstrating it for his class," she said. "We gave the students each a chance to try it, but advised them that since it's a second year spell, they may not all be able to do it. The student we are talking about was very proficient at it."

"So we need to wait until the summer," Malfoy concluded.

"Correct," Dumbledore said.

"So what role does each of you play in this plot?" he wanted to know.

"I'm the nephew of the person who found a note about the horcruxes," I told him. "She passed on the note to my family which is why we're involved."

"I'm the one who caught the Scamanders with Goldstein and Potter going to the chamber of secrets," Snape added. "As they were doing it to harvest basilisk venom, I felt a need to tell Dumbledore, and that is when Goldstein told us about the horcruxes, and Mrs. Scamander admitted that her maiden name is Goldstein and she is a cousin to one of her students."

"I joined in when they needed a goblin made sword," Flitwick offered.

"I was contacted because my brother Regulus was the one who left the note about the horcruxes," Sirius bragged. "He willingly went to his death in order to help make Voldemort mortal once more."

"And who will be bringing the dark lord back to life?" Malfoy asked.

"They're hoping that the two of us will go with the escaped death eater," Snape told him, "but we don't have to worry about it until the summer."

"That means that I won't be home when Draco is home," Malfoy protested.

"It's worth it to make the world safer for him to live in," Dumbledore told him, "But you have time to discuss it with Narcissa. Nobody is forcing you to do anything."

"I will discuss it with her," he said. "I will let you know what we decide."

I hoped that when this was all over, I would be back at home where I belong.


	30. Chapter 30

April 1992

Shlomo's point of view

I wondered how much longer it would be until we go home. Over Shabbos, my parents told me about the latest meeting. I hoped Malfoy would go ahead with the plan so Voldemort can be defeated so we can go back to New York.

Everyone else in my year was stressing out over exams. I was studying too, but I didn't expect to return to Hogwarts next year. I spent lots of time reading about Dittany in the library since I hoped I would be able to keep some with me when we go back home.

Everyone else was taking it so seriously, so I used my books to make myself a test in each subject. I decided to go in order of importance: Herbology (because of Dittany and other healing plants), Potions (for healing potions and shrinking potions), Charms (healing charms), Defense (just in case), Transfiguration (only if there's time), Astronomy (not that there was a point since I slept through class), and History of Magic since it was the only one left. I went through my whole book to make each test, so I didn't really know everything.

I answered the dittany questions very easily. I couldn't decide what flobberworm did so I figured I'll go back to it. I was in the middle of answering questions about mandrakes when Michael snuck up on me.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I made tests for myself in each subject," I told him. "The only problem is that I don't know all the answers."

"What subject are you revising?" he asked.

"I'm starting with 1000 magical herbs and fungi," I explained. "Once I know this book, I'll start with the next one."

"We don't need to memorize all 1000," Michael pointed out. He took the papers from my hand.

"I see your starting with 18," he commented. "You know everything about dittany. Should we revise the rest together?"

I agreed, but Michael wanted to revise all subjects, not just Herbology. We decided we'll spend an hour a day on it until the test immediately after supper. Obviously, we weren't doing Friday and Shabbos. That left many hours in the day for other subjects so I started potions next.

Once again, I didn't really know everything. There were quite a few questions about moonstone. I couldn't remember what that was so I skipped it. I knew a bezoar was the antidote to many poisons, but there were other things I needed to know too. We did the cure for boils during our first class, but I couldn't remember what went in it other than porcupine quills. I knew that the forgetfulness potion was the one we would have to do by the practical, but I didn't remember what went in that either. It's not like I would ever use it back home. The herbicide potion didn't look useful either. I wondered if a sleeping drought would help Yisrael, but I couldn't remember what went in it. I didn't see why anyone would ever want to use a swelling potion. The wideye potion also seemed useless. I couldn't remember what asphodel was for, but remembered everything about dittany. I couldn't remember what wiggentree was for either.

I decided to read my book in bed and try again tomorrow. I could also read during History of Magic since Binns doesn't know the difference, and I was sure that if I finish my potion early, Snape wouldn't object to my reading during class.

As I was completing my test Monday night, Michael came interrupted again.

"You just spent an hour doing Herbology with me," he commented. "What subject are you revising now?"

"Potions," I answered.

He looked at my test.

"Some of these are second year potions," he said, "Although I guess it doesn't hurt to know them."

We decided that we'll study potions every evening during supper until the test. This way, other Ravenclaws could join too if interested and older students may decide to help.

That meant it was time to study Charms. To my surprise, I aced my Charms practice test and decided that I don't need to try it again for a month. I pulled out my Defense test next. Once again, I didn't know a lot of it.

I didn't see how caring for werewolf bites would be different from any other bite. I couldn't remember what a red cap was although I'm sure Newt brought it to class once. Chances are, I wouldn't see them in New York. I'm not expecting to ever meet zombies, so I'm not sure why it's in my book. Hags sounded made up in my opinion so I saw no reason to answer questions about them.

The spells on the other hand were easy to remember. I easily wrote about the curse of bogeys, green sparks, red sparks, knockback jinx, smokescreen spell, wand lighting charm, and wand extinguishing charm. These were all things we did during class, so it wasn't a big deal to have a test on them.

I decided to read my book in bed again and during history the next day. I could also ask Tina what the test would be like. I'm sure she wouldn't mind telling me.

I asked her after class, but she said it would be cheating to tell me if she's not telling anyone else, but I shouldn't worry too much.

During supper, Michael and I studied potions. I accidently dripped ketchup on my study guide, but since it's mine, it doesn't matter. Of course, everyone sitting near us joined in.

"Are you only studying potions or will you be doing other subjects?" Terry asked.

"We do potions during supper," I told him. "We do Herbology after supper. I know charms so I don't need to study it. I'll decide sooner or later about the rest of the subjects."

"How do you know Charms so well?" Padma wanted to know.

"I asked Hermione to review it with me once," I explained. "She remembers every word Flitwick ever said."

"Maybe I should study with her," Padma said thoughtfully.

"Can I join you for Herbology?" Terry asked.

"The more the merrier," I answered.

After Herbology, I tried the rest of my defense test. Michael joined me again.

"When do we have time to study this?" he asked.

"During History of Magic," I decided.

We agreed that we'll spend the rest of our History classes studying defense. That meant I had time to try my Transfiguration test. Once again, there were many things that I didn't know.

I remembered that reparifarge was how we undo transfigurations since we do that every class. I also remembered all the transfigurations that we did in class. The problem was the background information. I think I remembered molecules being mentioned once but I couldn't remember enough details to answer questions. There were also lots of details about transformation that I couldn't remember. I also couldn't remember what avifors meant so I decided to skip it. I skipped fallomeles also since the name sounded unfamiliar. Beatle buttons, match to needle and mice to snuffboxes were all easy. Switching spells were also easy.

I couldn't remember who Chris Emetwic was, but he was mentioned in my book so he was on my practice test. I remembered McGonagall yelling at me to focus, so I knew that was important in transfiguration, but I couldn't remember the steps to focusing. There was also a lot about intent which I knew already. I couldn't remember everything about essence. I knew there was a list of do's and don'ts but couldn't remember what was on the list.

The main problem was that I didn't understand how transfiguration works. There were lots of questions about that. There were also unfamiliar words like lepusfor and vera verto. I didn't remember Gamp's law either.

While I forgot many of the basic transfigurations, I remembered reading some of the self transfigurations like sommes constructum.

The names of people were the hardest. I had no idea who Falco Aesalon, Nicolas Flamel, or Thaddius Thurkel were or what they had to do with transfiguration. I was busy doodling Alice in Wonderland over my paper when Michael sat down next to me again.

"So when can we do Transfiguration?" he asked looking at my feeble attempts.

"History of Magic is being used already," I said. "Which other class can we skip?"

"None," he said. "Maybe we can do Defense on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday and Transfiguration on Tuesday and Thursday."

I agreed that it was a good plan. Michael went back to his essay writing while I looked through the library for an Astronomy book. I realized that with no book, I can't study and was relieved to have one less subject to deal with.

History of Magic did have a book, so I had no excuse not to study. Since I never paid attention in class, I didn't really know any of the material. Luckily, the book was interesting to read. I decided that since the book was interesting, I would read it in bed and over Shabbos and yom tov without actually studying.

It was nice to be home for Pesach. Tina and Queenie came to the sedarim with their families, but since we didn't know if they were Jewish, we had to be careful with the wine. I ended up pouring for everyone while my mother poured my cup.

Queenie said that since Yisrael has two weeks off from school, this is the perfect time to undo all the damage that happened to him since he was two. I don't know how she did it, but Yisrael was suddenly talking and singing as much as he did when he was two, and he seemed a lot happier. He sang the first part of the ma nishtana along with the ridiculous English version that my mother learned in first grade and decided to teach him. I realized that he didn't even have to know the words. He could easily get them off of anyone's brain.

It seemed strange not to see any of my cousins over Pesach. I know that we say Tina and Queenie are our cousins, but they're fictional characters, so they don't count. I wondered how much longer it would be until I really go home.


	31. Chapter 31

April- June 1992

Yisrael's point of view

It was strange to go back to school after a long break. As soon as I saw my mother take out my uniform, I knew where I was going. I was so excited when I walked into my classroom, that I hugged all my teachers.

"Someone's excited to be back," my teacher said.

I sat through circle time with a big smile on my face. When I got too excited, I made noises and flapped my hands.

"Quiet body," my teacher reminded me. That's right. There's a reason I don't usually participate in circle time.

My teacher read us one of my favorite books today, Dr. Seuss's ABC. I know the book by heart, so I said it with her. She was so surprised, that after she finished, she pulled out the whole bin of Dr. Seuss books and asked me to read one to the class. I read Fox in Socks and Mr. Brown can Moo.

"How does he know all that?" I heard one of the teachers ask.

I don't know how they never knew that I knew books. I memorized them when I was one.

A teacher tested me on the ABCs. I knew all of the letters and some of the sounds. She seemed shocked that I knew it. There must be something seriously wrong with my teachers. I used to play Letters for Big Bird on Sesame Street back when I was two. Come to think of it, I haven't played it since. I wondered why not.

My teacher tested me on words, but I didn't know any. I guess I was never able to read. She showed me the word at and said we'll be working with it. She read the Pat Sat part of Hop on Pop, and we made our own Pat Sat book. In our book, Pat sat on bat, fat cat, hat, mat, and rat. I get to take my book home and read it.

We had a break after English, but I kept reading my book. I wondered why sat was spelled with an s and not a c. Cat should really be with a k. The r sound is very hard to say.

After the break, we did science. I'm not sure what exactly we did, but it was messy and fun. Next, we had lunch. It was nice to eat bread after Pesach.

During the next break, I ran around and had fun. I don't really know what was going on in social group, but it was probably fun.

During math, we worked on counting. I counted to 29. After 29, I said twenty-ten, twenty-eleven, etc until I got to twenty-twenty. Then I continued with twenty-twenty-one and twenty-twenty-two. My teachers were laughing at me and tried to get me to say 30 instead of twenty-ten, but twenty-ten is more fun.

After good-bye circle, Mommy came to get me.

"What happened to him over the holidays?" my teacher asked. "He knew everything today!"

"He always knew everything," Mommy said, "He just doesn't tell everyone what he knows."

"Today, he did," my teacher said.

"Hopefully, nobody will insult him and cause him to regress again," Mommy told her.

"Is that what causes regression?" my teacher was surprised. "I'll tell all the staff not to laugh at him even when he counts to twenty-ten."

At home, Mommy told Queenie what my teacher said. She checked my head and told Mommy what I did today. She tried to get me to say words by thinking them to me, but I didn't do it. I didn't want to say anything. When she took out a bag of chips, I agreed and said whatever she was thinking, as long as it was only one word at a time.

The next day at school was similar to the day before. My teacher had to tell me to be quiet during circle time. We went to the library, where I read lots of books to whoever wanted to listen. It's a good thing I memorized lots of books. I continued reading during the break since I wasn't finished all the books in the library yet. I got to play on a trampoline after. Its lots of fun. We got to use the computers too. YouTube wasn't invented yet, but there were some other things on it. There wasn't any internet either. We only had the programs that were already on the computer. I ate my lunch and ran around during the break. After that, my teacher reviewed everything I was doing before Pesach. It was all so easy; I don't know why I bothered. Finally, it was time to go home.

At home, Queenie checked my day again in my head.

"I see that Tuesday is your best day in school," she thought to me.

"That's because of trampoline and computer," I thought.

Queenie decided to focus on spells again. I was supposed to think about what spell she was about to do and tell Mommy before she could do it. It wasn't hard at all. I wondered why Mommy was thinking about a cemetery.

When Shlomo came home for Shabbos, he complained about all the studying everyone was doing. He spent most of Shabbos afternoon reading his history book. Mommy told him that once we get rid of Voldemort, he's not going to have to worry about any of this magic stuff anymore.

It was hard to believe that the school year was almost over. I was learning to read a lot during the next month. In fact, I mastered all cvc words. My teachers still insisted that the number after 29 is 30, but I always told them it was twenty-ten. Every Shabbos, Shlomo complained about studying for tests, until one week, he didn't.

Shlomo started complaining about the heat instead. England doesn't get real summers the way we get in New York, but Scotland is very hot. Mommy said that it's not as hot as New York. Scottish summers are usually around 70 degrees. Shlomo said that the classrooms are hot since the magical world didn't discover air conditioning yet.

Shlomo also complained about having to write with a quill. During the year, he got away with using a sharpie, but for exams, they have to write with special quill to make sure they don't cheat. Shlomo isn't very good at writing with a quill. I'm not very good at writing with anything.

Shlomo thought he did well on Charms, Transfiguration, and Potions. He said that Herbology wasn't too bad either. The Defense practical was fun, but the written exam had lots of information. He was pretty sure he failed Astronomy and History of Magic.

Overall, Shlomo was happy that exams were done even if he won't find out how he did for a week, and I was happier that I don't have to take exams.


	32. Chapter 32

June-July 1992

Feige's point of view

Shavuos was a three day yom tov again, but I remembered from last year to use disposable everything in order to avoid the Shabbos dishes being in the sink when I want to cut the lasagna. Shlomo didn't have time to contribute much to our Shavuos menu this year, and we didn't have Greens' Bakery right over the bridge, but we still had our blintzes, lasagna and cheesecakes, and Shlomo only had to miss one day of school. I often wondered why there were still classes after exams in Harry Potter books. In New York, once you finish your finals and regents, you're done for the year.

After Shavuos, Queenie went back to working Yisrael very hard. It seemed strange that the magical world is relying on an autistic ten-year-old to defeat Voldemort, and that once he is successful, he will go back to being an autistic nine-year-old. It also seemed strange that we need Yisrael's help in order to get back home where most people act as if he isn't capable of much.

The end of the school year was fast approaching. Shlomo kept complaining about the upcoming feast where he wouldn't be able to eat any foods. Gryffindor was leading in the house cup since Harry didn't miss any quidditch matches and Hagrid didn't get a dragon this year.

Yisrael's teachers were all congratulating themselves on all they think they did with Yisrael this year. They didn't realize that Queenie did the main part.

Dovid offered to drive Harry home when we pick up Shlomo. Vernon agreed, so we were surprised to see Sirius waiting at Kings Cross.

"I know I can't take him," Sirius said, "but maybe I can bring him to his relatives."

"They don't know or trust you," I pointed out. "They're expecting us to bring him."

"It's not like they really care," Harry commented.

"They will care if Sirius shows up doing something that attracts attention," I countered.

Finally, I agreed to call. I wondered if the Dursleys' phone number will still be in my cell phone once we're back home.

"Hi, Mrs. Dursley," I said when she answered. "Harry's godfather wants to bring Harry to your house, but I said that you agreed we should be bringing him, and I'm not changing plans without your permission. Do you want us to bring Harry or do you want his godfather to bring him?"

"Harry doesn't have a godfather," Petunia sniffed, "Otherwise he would have lived with him all these years."

"His godfather was released from prison in September," I purposely didn't mention that he was innocent.

"How come he can't keep him then?" Petunia asked suspiciously.

"Dumbledore doesn't think it's safe," I said, "but surely you knew Harry spent Christmas with him?"

"I don't remember," Petunia said. "What was he in jail for?"

"Murder," I answered calmly, "And Dumbledore did agree that Sirius could visit Harry during the summer and take him for an occasional weekend, so I don't know why he didn't tell you anything."

"You bring Harry and tell the godfather to bring Dumbledore," Petunia requested.

Two hours later, we had a meeting about Harry's custody.

"As soon as I feel it is safe, Harry could live with Sirius full time," Dumbledore explained.

"I don't want a murderer coming to my house on a regular basis," Petunia protested.

"Sirius is innocent," Dumbledore told her.

"All criminals say they're innocent," Vernon argued. "You can't believe him. Besides, how would he come and go?"

"On my motorcycle," Sirius said.

"I don't like motorcycles," Vernon told him. "Don't bring one here."

"I could apparate," Sirius offered.

"What's that?" Vernon asked suspiciously.

Sirius disappeared and reappeared a few feet to the left.

"At least nobody can see you that way," Petunia said. "But how will we know when you're coming?"

"I'll always call first," Sirius offered.

"Do you have our number?" Vernon asked.

"I can mirror call Harry," Sirius said.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Vernon wanted to know.

"It's magic," Harry started to explain.

"I don't want to hear about your abnormality!" Vernon yelled.

"Let's agree to some rules for while Harry is in your care," Sirius said. "You do realize he can call me at anytime."

"We care for that boy very well," Vernon bluffed. "He never lacked anything."

"He won't be kept in a cupboard," Sirius said sternly.

"He hasn't been sleeping in a cupboard for almost a year," Vernon said. "He has a bedroom."

"He will get the same amount of food as the rest of the family," Sirius continued.

"We never starved him," Vernon interrupted.

"He won't be locked up," Sirius added.

"The Goldsteins already explained why it's not productive to lock him up," Vernon said, "So none of your rules are applicable."

"You shouldn't need someone to explain that to you," Sirius pointed out. "It should be common sense."

"Let it go," Dumbledore told Sirius. "Work out a schedule for the next week, while we see what happens with our plans."

I was relieved when they were all gone.

The first week of summer vacation was tiring. Shlomo complained he was bored whenever Harry was out with Sirius, and Yisrael just wanted to go to the park or listen to music. I felt like I didn't get any breaks between them. At least Shlomo made suppers some nights.

Malfoy finally destroyed the two horcruxes. Now the only one left was Harry.

The next week, Sirius started hanging out with Harry and Shlomo instead of taking Harry all over England. Shlomo taught them to play football, basketball, baseball and tennis. He also got them interested in watching sports and told them about the upcoming Olympics.

Sirius tried pranking the Dursleys, but Remus managed to stop him. He insisted that after Harry doesn't have to go back there anymore, he's going to do something really nasty to them. At that point, I would be home in New York, and the Dursleys will once again be fictional characters.

The Dursleys kept complaining about Hedwig until Harry finally decided to keep her in our empty room. Sirius took Harry flying every weekend, but hung around a little too much. Harry and Shlomo did their homework even though Shlomo hopefully won't be back at Hogwarts in September.

Sirius wanted to plan a big bash for Harry's birthday, but Harry vetoed the idea. Instead, they decided to go out to eat. Harry invited Ron and Shlomo to go with them, but Shlomo couldn't go since they were planning on going out on Friday night. I suggested that they ask Hermione instead, but Harry vetoed the idea.

"Who's Hermione?" Sirius asked curiously.

"A girl in Harry's year who argues with Ron like an old couple," I told him.

The Dursleys were having a business dinner that night, so they didn't want Harry or Sirius around. Sirius agreed to keep Harry overnight and they arranged that Ron and Remus will sleep over too. At least I didn't have to worry about Dobby disturbing their dinner.

I watched the Masons pull up through the window and hoped that their dinner would be successful.


	33. Chapter 33

August 1992

Yisrael's point of view

Things are going to be happening soon. Mommy is nervous and wishes she can go with me to protect me, even though I'm more likely to protect her. When I try to see where I'm supposed to be going, I see an unfamiliar place in Mommy's mind with Harry tied to something. Tatti wants to be home already. He wants me to get whatever it is over with. Queenie is proud of what I could do and is hoping I'll be able to do it against some guy named Voldemort. Everyone is nervous.

Finally, it's time. Queenie takes me to a place called a cemetery. Professor Dumbledore makes us invisible. There are other invisible people hiding. It takes me a while to place everyone, but I realized that the invisible people are Professor Dumbledore, Professor Flitwick, Tina, and Newt. Snape and Malfoy are running around talking to everyone, making sure everything is ready. Then, they disappeared.

They came back with another man and some sort of baby sized thing. They also have a big black pot, big enough to take a bath in. I watched them set things up, trying to figure out what they're doing.

"I'll go get the boy," Snape finally said.

"You don't anticipate any problems?" the baby asked.

"Potter's godfather is expecting me to bring his friend wolfsbane potion now," Snape said. "I can enter and leave the house without a problem, and Black will be so busy dealing with the wolf, that nobody will notice when I take the brat."

"Be quick!" the baby commanded.

Snape disappeared. I was able to feel the tension in the air and wondered who was the most scared.

A few minutes later, Snape came back with Harry and Padfoot. I tried to say hi but realized that someone must have silenced me. I couldn't make any sounds. I thought to Queenie that I want the spell off, but she sent a message back that I need to stay quiet since the bad guys can't know where we are.

"What's with the dog?" the baby man asked.

"It wouldn't leave the boy," Snape told him. "He's a harmless mutt who the boy plays with all the time."

Snape, Malfoy, and Crouch tied Harry to a grave. Harry put his hands on his face like he had a big headache. Sirius growled. Harry made a noise like he will throw up. I'm only supposed to throw up in the toilet. Mommy doesn't like when I throw up in bed because it makes a mess.

Snape got busy with the bathtub pot. He started a fire as if the pot was on the stove and he was cooking supper in a bathtub. The man who I didn't know picked up the ugly baby man and put him in the pot/bathtub so they could eat him for supper.

I checked the man's thoughts and realized that his name is Crouch and he's planning on turning baby man into real man. I waited to see what would happen.

Something flew from under where Harry was tied to the pot. Sirius growled and tried to catch it, but Snape and Malfoy both shot spells in his direction so he backed up. He rubbed himself against Harry's feet. Crouch cut off his hand and put it in the pot. Mommy gets angry at me when I cut myself on purpose. She doesn't understand how much fun it is to finger paint with blood.

Snape gave Harry a blood test with Sirius growling at him and snapping at his robes. Snape added the blood to the pot.

An ugly man came out of the bathtub. The man with one hand and Malfoy put his robe on him. I guess that even though he's not baby size anymore, he is still like a baby and can't get dressed by himself. He should go to my school in New York. My teachers taught me how to dress myself.

"Should I tend to his hand?" Snape asked.

"I'll do it," the man, whose name is Voldemort said. He waved his wand and a silver hand appeared where the missing hand should have been.

"My lord," Crouch said. "Master, it is beautiful!"

"Give me your arm," Voldemort told Malfoy.

Malfoy did as told. Voldemort pressed something. He was talking, either to himself or to his three men. Then, he started talking to Harry. He must have said something that Sirius didn't like, because Sirius growled at him again. Voldemort continued talking.

A bunch of people crawled to Voldemort and kissed his robe. They stood in a circle around him. Snape, Malfoy, and Crouch joined the circle.

Voldemort made a speech and said that he doesn't know why only Malfoy, Snape and Crouch went for him. He did a bad curse on a man named Avery.

Voldemort continued talking and touched Harry. Sirius growled again. He bit Harry's ropes so that Harry could move his hands. He picked up Harry's wand with his teeth and handed it to him.

"I want to see the dog's reaction when I kill Potter," Voldemort said as if he had to justify letting Sirius live.

Voldemort raised his wand. I knew he was going to do the pain curse and thought that to Queenie who told Dumbledore who signaled to Harry.

"Expelliramus!" Harry yelled at the same time that Voldemort screamed "Crucio!"

Harry and Voldemort both started flying as their wands connected. A golden house came up around them. I tried to crawl in but there was no door. There was some beautiful music.

Voldemort's wand screamed and a smoky hand came out. Harry pulled his wand away and the gold cage disappeared.

"Why don't you just kill me instead?" Harry asked. "If you agree to only do the killing curse, I won't lift my wand to fight you."

"As if you could fight Lord Voldemort?" Voldemort said disdainfully. "You don't make the decisions around here."

"What did I just do?" Harry challenged.

"I'm not sure what that was, but somehow you did prior incantem on my wand," Voldemort mused.

"Your wand won't work against mine," Harry said. "I don't want pain, so if I see that you're going to do something painful, I will lift my wand and block you again, the same as I just did. If you agree to just do a killing curse, I'll leave my wand in my pocket and let you kill me."

"Why would you do that?" Voldemort asked.

"I would like to see my parents again," Harry bluffed. Sirius growled.

"You want to die?" Voldemort was surprised.

"Death is like going to sleep after a long day," Harry said. "I'm ready for my next adventure."

"That sounds like Dumbledore's garbage," Voldemort snorted.

"Professor Dumbledore knows things that you don't know," Harry said. "He knows that death is sometimes easier than life. Therefore, I'm asking you again to kill me now."

Voldemort laughed.

"Everybody here is a witness that the boy is asking for it," he said cheerfully. "Very well, nobody can say that Lord Voldemort is not merciful. Avada Kedavra!"

I knew what was coming as he was talking and let Queenie know. All of a sudden, Harry and Voldemort were both on the ground. Sirius jumped all over Harry until he finally got up. Crouch helped Voldemort back to his feet once Harry was awake.

All of a sudden, Sirius transformed and Voldemort was hit with lots of spells at once. Dumbledore and Flitwick got the graves to attack Voldemort while Tina disarmed him. Newt sent all sorts of strange creatures after him while Sirius caused Voldemort's head to swell to twice its size. Voldemort tried getting his wand back, but was held off by Malfoy and Snape. Crouch headed toward Tina, but I let Queenie know what he was planning, and she warned Sirius who stabbed him before stabbing Voldemort. Sirius had some fun practicing every hex he knew on Voldemort and was soon joined by Tina and Queenie. There was lots of blood coming from Voldemort's body. All the death eaters who came after he got his body decided they didn't want to fight for him and left. I realized that one of them was thinking that Voldemort isn't even strong enough to take on a fourteen year old. Eventually, Dumbledore told them to stop. He meant that Voldemort was dead. Sirius was all over Harry, trying to make sure he was okay. Dumbledore suggested going out to celebrate, but Queenie took me home first, so I don't know if they did.

Mommy was so happy to see me. Queenie said that it went as planned and left. Mommy was wondering what would happen next. She seemed to think we may go home to New York. She told me that it's bedtime and I went to sleep.


	34. Chapter 34

August 1992/ June 21 2018

Feige's point of view

I woke up from Yisrael pulling my hair. I got his hand out and gave him his doll.

"Water," he said.

That's strange. Back in New York, I had to get up to give him water at night, but here in England, with a bathroom in my room, Yisrael helps himself. I just have to get up to turn off the water.

"Go to the bathroom and take water," I told him. "I left a cup for you in the bathroom."

"No," Yisrael said.

I tiredly got out of bed and went to the bathroom. It wasn't there. I opened my bedroom door and walked down the hall to the kitchen, relieved to be back in my familiar environment. I handed Yisrael a cup of water and relocked my bedroom door. It wasn't long before Yisrael and I were sleeping again.

I woke up a few hours later from Dovid grumbling.

"Where did you put the bathroom?" he asked.

"I didn't touch the bathroom," I told him.

"It's gone," he complained.

"Use the other one," I suggested.

When he came back to the bedroom, Shlomo was behind him.

"I left all my plants in the extra bedroom, and the extra bedroom is gone," he complained.

"This apartment is kind of small," Dovid commented.

"It's perfect," I told him.

"I'm used to having all that space in the house," Dovid said.

"Really?" I challenged. "When was the last time you were in the playroom?"

"Yisrael's toys weren't in the living room because he had the playroom," Dovid pointed out.

"So don't play with his toys," I said.

"We're home," Shlomo told us. "Stop arguing."

"You start day camp next week," I reminded him. "Maybe you'll play first base this year. You're in the oldest bunk so you get priority."

"It goes by talent," Shlomo said, "but I'm a decent fielder. I should be able to play first."

Yisrael woke up and looked around.

"Home!" he said cheerfully.

"His teachers will be surprised when he starts school again," Dovid pointed out. "They'll probably try to take all the credit for his talking."

"Considering he has no school for two weeks, I seriously doubt it," I disagreed. "I just hope they don't ruin it for him again."

"That wasn't his school," Shlomo said. "That was a school that didn't want him."

"We're really home," Dovid said. "Home ugly home."

"Home disgusting home," Shlomo added.

"There's no place like home," I said.

"I wonder what my friends are up to," Shlomo agreed. "I haven't seen them in over a year."

"You saw them yesterday," I teased.

"That was for them, not me," he pointed out.

Just then, the phone rang. Shlomo ran to get it.

"It's Bobbi," he said. "She's having trouble with her computer. I told her I'll get dressed and come fix it."

Dovid's phone vibrated.

"My first text from Yitzy in over a year," he said, rushing to reply.

No doubt about it, I thought to myself. We are back in the 21st century.


End file.
